12 Days
by NayaFan
Summary: Set in December 2011. Checking the tv is pointless. She knows this even as she turns it on, but knowing it hasn't stopped her from checking three times a day for the last three weeks. The radio, Internet and phone lines haven't worked for three weeks either, she still check them just as much as the tv. It's the only thing that keeps her going, keeps them all going.
1. Chapter 1

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Checking the tv is pointless. She knows this even as she turns it on, but knowing it hasn't stopped her from checking three times a day for the last three weeks. The radio, Internet and phone lines haven't worked for three weeks either, she still check them just as much as the tv. It's the only thing that keeps her going, keeps them all going.**_

_**R&R please.**_

_**12 Days**___

Chapter 1

Checking the tv is pointless. She knows this even as she turns it on, but knowing it hasn't stopped her from checking three times a day for the last three weeks. The radio, Internet and phone lines haven't worked for three weeks either, she still check them just as much as the tv. It's the only thing that keeps her going, keeps them all going. Ever since this all began, she had pretended to be hopeful; for Brittany's sake. Santana wishes that she had Brittany's endless optimism, wishes she could believe that things will be okay; she doesn't. Maybe if her father had been here when it happened, rather than in Barbados with his new wife, she would be optimistic. His mere presence would install some belief in her. Her father is the strongest person Santana has ever known. If anyone could get them out of this, it would be him.

Now, she doesn't even know if he's still alive. Before the tv broadcasts had turned to fuzzy static, they had shown that the virus had spread through most of America. She has no idea if it has spread any further and, to be completely honest, she's not sure if she wants to know. She flips the light off as she leaves the living room, wondering how much longer they'll have power for. Their street is one of the last few streets to have power in the whole of Lima and she's not sure how she'll be able to handle it when they do eventually lose it. The darkness would surely only make the danger seem worse. She doesn't know why, it doesn't make a difference to those infected, but having power gives her a minuscule feeling of safety in amongst the overwhelming panic and dread.

Sighing, she glances at the boarded up windows before closing the living room door and heading into the kitchen. Dave looks up briefly and gives her a nod before going back to tinkering with an old antique radio whilst listening for any sounds from the back yard. For the last three weeks he's done this every single night, only going to bed for a few hours before dawn, and only if someone else is awake. Santana briefly lays her hand on his broad shoulder, squeezing gently before filling a glass of water and leaving the kitchen again. She finds Sam in his usual place, sitting on the bottom step with a rifle in his arms as be stares at the boarded up door. He will be there for another hour or so, until Puck gets up and takes his place.

"Goodnight, Sam."

"Goodnight, yell if you need me." Santana nods and continues walking to her bedroom, relieved that another day is almost over. She passes the guest room that the guys have been sharing, rolling her eyes as Puck's snoring seems to get louder with each passing second. She reaches her mother's bedroom and slowly opens the door, just enough to peek inside. Watching her mother's sleeping form, she breathes her nightly sigh of relief. Santana quietly closes the door again and makes her way to her bedroom, smiling softly as she enters to find Brittany still awake.

"You don't have to wait up for me every single night," she murmurs as she strips off and slides into bed behind her girlfriend. She nuzzles her neck and wraps her arm around Brittany's athletic frame. Somehow, even on the bleakest of days, smelling Brittany's sweet scent and touching her soft skin, makes it better.

"Then come to bed when I do, there's nothing more you can do once the boys start their nightly look-outs," Brittany whispers, turning around to spoon Santana. Not many people would think of Santana as the little spoon, it even surprised Santana when she discovered that she preferred it. That's how they fall asleep every night.

"I need to feel like I'm doing something," Santana whimpers, allowing her vulnerability to show through. Brittany is the only person she trusts enough to see this side of her. "I just need to."

"You are helping. More than you know."

0-00-0

It's almost midnight when Puck wakes up and, for a few special seconds, he is too hazy from sleep to remember wy his alarm is going off. The more alert he becomes, the more the recent events come rushing back to him. The days are slowly blending together, apart from two devastating events. He shakes his head as though attempting to throw the memories from his mind. Thinking about _that_ will only weaken him, he can't afford any weakness right now, none of them can. The things he's had to do in these last few weeks are things he never wants to talk about. Pushing himself out of bed, he quickly throws on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top before padding downstairs, clapping Sam on the shoulder as he passes him on his way to the kitchen. Dave grumbles a greeting to him and jerks his head in the direction of the freshly made pot of coffee.

"Any action tonight?" Puck asks as he pours himself a coffee.

"No. It's been prety quiet," Dave murmurs, "we'll need to go out tomorrow; for supplies." Puck's stomach churns at the though of going out there, especially after what happened the last time he went out there. "Sam and I can handle it," Dave adds when he notices the look on Puck's face. "Plus, Santana said she wanted to come."

"Maribel will kick your ass if you let Santana go with you. She hates that _we_ go out, nevermind Santana."

"Have you ever tried saying no to Santana?" Dave asks incredulously. "It's not a word she likes to hear.

"Good point. Maribel's still gonna kill you though," Noah mutters as he leaves the kitchen with his coffee. He takes the rifle from Sam's arms, the young blonde man mumbling an exhausted goodnight as he climbs the stairs, Puck taking his place on the bottom step. Sipping his coffee, he listens carefully for sounds from outside...just like he has done every night for the last three weeks. He doesn't like it when it's quiet, it feel like they're planning something. No. He shakes his head at that though. They are mindless monsters, they're not smart enough to do that. The worst part about it being silent is that recent memories force their way into the forefront of his mind. It is hard not to think about it, it's even harder when he does think about it.

He can still hear their screams, their terrified voices yelling his name...begging him for help. Their petrified faces float around in his head and he can still picture, uncomfortably clearly, how they looked as they began to change. The meel of their bodies as they stumbled towards him is still a smell that fills his nostrils. That haunts him. He can still feel the heavy, cold metal of the axe in his hands as he falls asleep at night. Noah remembers every little detail about that night. Every smell...feeling...every damn second of it. Every damn second of the night he was forced to kill his mother and sister.

_**To be continued..chapters will be posted daily until it is finished. Please review.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you for the reviews so far. I know some of you have some questions and I assure you they will all be answered in the story.**_

_**R&R Please.**_

Chapter 2 - December 14th

Quinn shivers in the cold air of the early morning as she carefully and quietly climbs off her bicycle, gently laying it down on the sidewalk. She nervously glances around her, looking and listening for any signs of them. The pools of dried blood that stain the streets of Lima causes bike to rise in her throat. This is the first time since it all began that she has ventured outside. Her mother had told her that leaving the house would be suicide but, after they had eaten the last of their food two days ago, Quinn figures it'd be suicide not to leave. Her mother had begged her not to go. Now that she is unable to drink, she's been like a real parent. Of course it would take a zombie apocalypse for Judy Fabray to stop drinking. Russell, her father, hasn't been seen since the day is began. He had left for work that morning and hadn't come home. Quinn has had nightmares since then. Every time she closes her eyes, she can imagine her father as one of them. She had always thought that Russell Fabray couldn't have gotten any worse. Now that it's possible, it's like her worst nightmare has come true.

She stays as quiet as possible as she walks towards Walmart, knowing that the virus had spread fast enough that there would at least be _something_ left on the shelves. A familiar truck catches her eye as it sits abandoned in the parking lot. Seeing the truck, and picturing the owner's face causes a lump to rise in her throat. While she and her mom were hiding, Quinn always prayed that her friends from glee club had made it out of here safely. The truck tells her that, at least, one of them didn't. That's one of the worst parts, not knowing who is, and isn't, okay. She steps through the space where a window used to be, being careful not to brush against the jagged shards of glass that protrude from the edges. It's eerily quiet inside the large store and, as far as she can tell, she's alone inside it. Her heart rapidly thumps in her chest as she edges further inside, further away from the broken window; her escape route. A sudden squeak from a shoe causes her to freeze and a muttered curse sends a rush of electric hope through her body. She recognises that voice!

Quinn knows that it's far too risky to call out, it could tip _them_ off that people are here. Instead, she quietly follows the sound of the voice, it leading her into the canned food section. Quinn rolls her eyes as she sees her friend disappear around the corner and she quickly, but quietly, follows after her. She holds her breath when she hears another noise, a crash from the other end of the store. Fuck. Quickening her pace, Quinn heads to the end of the aisle and turns the corner, hoping to find Puck quickly. A gun aimed at her forehead stops her in her tracks.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Quinn!"

"Santana?!"

"I thought you were one of them!" Santana spits out, suddenly pulling Quinn to her and hugging her friend desperately.

"I thought you were Puck," Quinn whispers.

"He just went out to the truck. Are you okay? You haven't been bitten, have you?" Santana questions her.

"I'm fine. Are you? Brittany?"

"Brittany's fine," Santana murmurs and Quinn notices that her hard, brown eyes soften considerably. "Puck, Karofsky and Sam have been staying with us and my mom but I haven't seen anyone else," she adds as she suddenly turns her attention to the back of the store and grabs Quinn's arm. "Let's go, I'll explain on the way to my place."

"Wait, San, my mom's at home!"

"We'll get here," Santana reassures her as she pulls her to the front of the store, almost walking straight into Karofsky. He falters at the sight of Quinn for a split second before ushering them out of the broken window. Quinn catches sight of Puck sitting in the driver's seat of his truck, the one she had thought was abandoned, just as Santana begins to run..dragging Quinn along behind her. She can hear laboured breathing and heavy, unsteady footsteps behind her and she forces herself not to look, she doesn' need to see them. Her nightmares are bad enough already. Karofsky all but throws her into the back of the truck before clambering in behind her and slamming the door shut. Quinn flinches as Santana fires a few shots out of the window of the passenger seat.

"Let's go!" Karofsky snaps.

"Quinn's house...her mom is there," Santana tells Puck as he drives the truck out of the parking lot, gears crunching loudly and smoke coming from the wheels as they spin on the tarmac. Quinn keeps her eyes squeezed closed until the only sound she can hear in the low thrum of the engine, not bearing to look out of the window at the crowd they left behind them.

0-00-0

Santana would be lying if she said she wasn't surprised to see a sober Judy Fabray, even in a zombie apocalypse; or whatever the hell this is. In the twelve years that she has been friends with Quinn, Santana can count on one hand how many times she has seen Judy completely alcohol free. Despite the circumstances, it's nice to see the old Judy back. The ride back to her house is relatively silent, apart from the odd question directed to Puck about his driving from Judy. Santana holds her breath when she hears Judy ask about his mother and sister. Puck's only response is to remorsefully shake his head and Santana is glad that Judy doesn't question it further. Sober Judy has tact, it seems.

"It looks pretty quiet," Dave remarks softly to Puck as they pull into the large parking garage a few yards away from the beginning of Santana's street.

"It won't be once we get inside," Noah retorts, shooting Santana a meaningful glance that causes her to roll her eyes. It's not that much of a big deal. It's not the first time she has been the source of her mother's anger, and it won't be the last; she hopes.

"I don't think it's Maribel she needs to worry about," Dave smirks, jerking his head towards the attic window where Brittany is watching them. She has one of the shotguns they had aquired in her grasp, covering them as they make their way down the blood stained street. Santana looks up at her girlfriend. Brittany looks pissed. She has a gun and looks pretty badass...and hot. Sam lets them into the house via the back door. If he's surprised to see Quinn and Judy, he doesn't show it. He and Dave work together to lock and barricade the door again, Sam shooting glances at Quinn every few seconds. They hug once he is done, both of them having a whispered conversation that is too low for anyone else to hear.

"Santana Alma Marisol Lopez!" Santana rolls her eyes at her mother's use of her full name and obediently follows Maribel's voice into the living room. She passes, a downright furious, Brittany as she goes, her girlfriend shooting her a withering glare and continuing on her way to the kitchen, not uttering one single word to Santana.

"I'm so glad you're here, Quinn, and that you're okay, Brittany murmurs as she embraces her friend tightly.

"Me too, Britt," Quinn replies, squeezing Brittany just as tightly back.

"You too, Mrs Fabray," Brittany stares warmly, giving the, surprised, older woman a quick, but tight, hug as well.

"It's just Judy, Brittany. How are your parents?"

"I was here when it happened so I haven't seen them, I just know they got out of Lima though," Brittany tells Judy optimistically.

"Of course, dear." If Judy's response was supposed to condescending, it doesn't sound it. They all hear a loud argument explode from inside the living room, Santana and Maribel filling the house with loud, angry Spanish.

"What's going on?" Quinn questions in confusion.

"She's not supposed to go out there," Brittany mutters darkly. Quinn can't quite hide the smirk that tugs at her lips. Santana Lopez, the self proclaimed badass, who claimed that, at seventeen, she is much too old to be controlled by her mother. Now, everyone in the house know that it is, for lack of a better word, bullshit. The guys busy themselves with walking around the house doing spot checks on all the windows and doors, leaving Brittany, Quinn and Judy to hang our in the middle of the awkward atmosphere. The argument only lasts for a few more minutes, it ending with Santana storming upstairs, her bedroom door slamming closed a moment or two later. Maribel walks into the kitchen a short while later, looking flustered and exhausted.

"Quinn!" Maribel stops short, her eyes round and surprised. "Oh, honey, I'm so glad you're okay! I've been thinking about you so much!" Maribel exclaims, pulling her daughter's friend into a maternal, bone crushing hug.

"It's so good to see you, mama L," Quinn smiles, leaning into the embrace. She flashes a guilty glance in her mother's direction, realising that Judy isn't aware of her, and Brittany's, close bond with Maribel. Judy sends her daughter a reassuring smile, she's aware that she won't be winning any mother of the year awards and, truthfully, she's glad that someone has been there for her daughter when she hasn't been. "You know my mom, right?"

"Of course! Maribel pulls out of the hug and and smiles warmly at Judy. "I'm so relieved that are you are both okay. Is Russell...?"

"We haven't seen him since the morning it started," Judy murmurs and Brittany swears she can hear a small amount of relief in the woman's voice.

"I'm sorry," Maribel states softly and sincerely, walking over to Judy and guiding her to the kitchen table. "Brittany, could you make some tea please, sweetheart?"

0-00-0

Santana sighs loudly as she lays on her head and stares up at her ceiling. She really doesn't see what the big deal is. She's not some dumb kid, why can't she help? She's older than Sam and only a few months younger than Dave and Puckerman and if they can go out there, so can she. She can't just expect the guys to always risk their lives and not help out sometimes, can she?

"I can hear you thinking all the way downstairs." Santana briefly glances towards her bedroom door where her mother is standing, making a grunt of acknowledgment before going back to sulkily staring at the ceiling. "Oh, mija, I know you're upset but surely you can understand where I'm coming from," Maribel states softly. She moves across the bedroom and sits down on the edge of her daughter's bed, her hand resting on Santana's knee. It's a small victory for her when Santana doesn't jerk the limb away from her mother's touch.

"I get it," Santana says shortly.

"I don't think you do, mija," Maribel sighs. "Let me put it this way, how would you feel if Brittany decided she wanted to go out there?"

"She is _not_ going out there, it's too dangerous!" Santana instantly exclaims.

"Exactly," Maribel nods, "that is why I don't want you going out there."

"Ma, I can handle it," Santana states with determination, her brown eyes serious as she gazes up at her mother.

"I don't doubt that for a second, my sweet girl. I know how tough you can be. Afterall, I did raise you, I've seen how resillient you can be. You may be almost grown but you are still my baby, and I won't allow you to go out there," Maribel tells her firmly.

"If I'm almost grown then I can make my own decisions about going out there," Santana retorts stubbornly, pushing herself up to sit back against the headboard, her arms automatically folding across her chest.

"That's where you're wrong. You are seventeen years old and, as long as you live under my roof, you'll do as I say." Maribel's voice is firm as she stares sternly at her daughter, her arms also folding across her chest.

"This is ridiculous, mami. I went out there today and I was fine!"

"You mean apart from almost blowing your friend's head off with a gun and being chased back to the truck? No, I'm not budging on this one, Santana," Maribel tells her as she stands up, noticing that Brittany is hovering in the doorway. "You may be angry with me but I won't lose you to those...monsters," Maribel murmurs. "I'd rather you were mad at me than dead." With that, she leaves the bedroom. Santana's intense glare falters when she notices her girlfriend stepping into the bedroom. Brittany doesn't speak, merely shooting Santana a look that tells her she agrees with Maribel before climbing on to the bed and snuggling into Santana's side. Deep down, very deep down, buried under layers of determination and anger, Santana knows her mother has a point but, she's not about to admit that.

"Where's Quinn?" she asks quietly. Anything to keep the conversation away from her earlier venture outside.

"She and her mom are getting settled into the guest room, the guys are moving into the attic. Promise me you won't go back out there. At least until we all get out of here," Brittany pleads, her crystal blue eyes wide and scared.

"I can't do that, Britt," Santana sighs, she refused to make promises to Brittany unless she knows she can keep them. Santana can't promise that she won't go back out there.

_**To be continued...please review.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**To those affected by yesterday's horrific events in Connecticut, my thoughts are with you.**_

Chapter 3 - December 15th

Quinn yawns loudly as she pads downstairs, still in her pajamas and her hair mussed from sleep. She sleepily stumbles passed Sam as he sits on the bottom step, reading a book about Star Wars, pressing a gentle kiss to his head as she does so. Quinn finds Santana in the kitchen, the other teenager leaning heavily against the counter as she waits for the coffee pot to fill. Santana grunts a tired greeting and automatically pulls a second mug from the cupboard, motioning for Quinn to take a seat. Quinn doesn't attempt to start a conversation with Santana, not this early in the morning, it'd be pointless. Past experience taught her that. Instead, she waits for Santana to speak first. She silently accepts the mug of steaming coffee that Santana hands her, smiling gratefully and watching as her friend sits down opposite her with her own coffee.

"Nice pajamas," Santana eventually mutters, smirking as she gestures towards Quinn's pink bunny pajamas.

"Nice..barely there clothing," Quinn retorts, eyeing the tight tank top and woman's boxers that Santana is wearing. "I bet Puckerman appreciates it."

"If you've got it, flaunt it," Santana shrugs. "You should count yourself lucky that Brittany isn't down here at this time in the morning, she's wandering down here naked while half asleep too many times to count. It's a pity really, you could have gotten a show with breakfast...instead, it's only me who gets that," Santana adds with a smirk.

"Nice." Quinn rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh before taking a long sip of her coffee, gazing curiously at Santana as she places her mug back down on the table.

"What?" Santana asks warily, eyeing her friend suspiciously.

"I heard your mom is stopping you from going out there," Quinn murmurs.

"She's not. I mean, she's trying to but I want to do my part. If you're about to lecture me, then don't," Santana tells her firmly.

"I'm not. I actually agree with you," Quinn states, much to Santana's surprise.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I want to do my part too. We're not weak little girls, the guys don't have to do everything for us," Quinn mutters, lowering her voice when she remembers that Sam is just down the hall. "We need to prove ourselves, otherwise we'll just continue to be treated like little kids."

"I agree," Santana nods.

"And...I want to find Rachel..no, I _need_ to find Rachel," Quinn whispers.

"What? Why? You got a crush on her or something?" Santana questions with a teasing grin on her face, not realising how serious Quinn is.

"No," Quinn snips, "She may know how to find Shelby." Santana finally realises what Quinn is meaning.

"Beth."

"Yeah. I need to know if she's okay," Quinn says softly.

"Sorry, Q, I didn't think," Santana murmurs apologetically, her dark brown eyes full of guilt. Quinn waves off her apology, she knows Santana wasn't meaning to upset her.

"Will you help me find out?" Quinn asks quietly. Santana senses that this is the real reason that Quinn wants her to go out.

"Of course. You should have just said that from the start instead of all the girl power crap."

"Yeah. Sorry. Your mom will kill you for this. You know that, right?" Quinn states in concern.

"Someone needs to go out and get more gas for the truck anyway. Besides, I'll just tell her that were gonna go on your own if I didn't agree to go with you," Santana replies.

"Nothing like placing all of the blame on someone else, huh?" Quinn mutters dryly.

"It's true though, isn't it?" Quinn's silence and her guilty expression answers Santana's question. "I thought so," Santana murmurs with a sigh. "We'll go tonight. If we go now we'll get caught before we're even out of the door."

"Won't someone be down here tonight?"

"Not if I decide I want to help out by taking a shift keeping watch," Santana states slyly. In the back of her mind, she knows that everyone else will be furious with them for leaving and not only that, but leaving without telling everyone. It also means she'll never be able to pull a stunt like this again, her mother will be watching her like a hawk after this. She can understand why her mother doesn't like the idea of her going out there but, she needs to do this. She needs to help Quinn.

"Good morning." They both jump in surprise at the sound of Maribel's voice, turning to face the woman as she leans in the doorway. "Santana, if you even think of following through on this little plan of yours, I will lock you in your bedroom for the rest of your life," Maribel states sternly.

"Maribel, I'm sorry, this was all my idea," Quinn stutters. "It's something I have to do."

"I don't want to hear it, from either of you. I heard the whole conversation," Maribel sighs angrily, walking across to the coffee pot and pouring herself a mug before sitting down next to Santana. "Santana, go put some more clothes on please," Maribel says with a roll of her eyes, watching as her daughter huffs and flounces out of the room. "Sweetheart, you can't go out there. Believe me, I felt sick and terrified when Santana was out there for just a couple of hours. I can only imagine how scared you are, but you gave her to a great woman. A woman who will do everything in her power to protect her, that's what a mother does," Maribel tells her softly and kindly. "You don't even know if Rachel knows where Shelby is, sweetheart, you and Santana could easily be risking your lives over a wild goose chase. Do you remember what you said to me the night you gave her up?"

"That Shelby is her real mother...because she's the one that's gonna be there, the one that's raising her," Quinn whispers tearfully.

"Sweetheart, you need to _really_ think about this," Maribel murmurs, reaching across the table to gently grasp Quinn's hand. "If you decide to go then there's not much I can do to stop you, I doubt even your mother would be able to stop you, but Santana is_ not_ going and if you go, then I will follow you out that door," she says seriously; passionately.

"What?!" Quinn stares at Maribel in shock.

"I may not have any say about you going out there but I do have a say about you doing it alone."

0-00-0

Santana smiles as she feels Brittany's lips against her temple, stumbling slightly as they walk into the living room. She rolls her eyes when Puck and Maribel immediately stop talking. Santana hates when that happens because it means the conversation is either about her, or something she isn't allowed to hear. Either way, she doesn't like it.

"What's going on?" she asks suspiciously, glancing up at Brittany briefly and seeing that, she too, is curious.

"Nothing for you girls to worry about," Maribel replies simply. "Come on, dinner's almost ready," she adds, ushering Santana and Brittany out of the living room and towards the kitchen. It doesn't take long for Santana to work out what her mother and Puck were talking about, especially when Quinn guiltily looks away from her.

"Partners in crime no longer, huh?" Santana mutters dryly as she sits down at the table, Brittany sending her a questioning gaze that she waves off. She doesn't really want to tell her girlfriend what's going on, Brittany will be pissed if she learns that Santana had planned to sneak out.

"San...I'm sorry," Quinn states sincerely, her hazel eyes full of guilt. "You can't do it."

"Do what?" Santana grimaces when she hears Brittany's question.

"I'll tell you later, babe."

"No, I think you should tell her now," Maribel interrupts firmly, causing the whole of the table to stop their own conversations and turn to look between the mother and daughter.

"Is there a problem?" Dave asks gruffly.

"Yes," Maribel states with a nod of her head, turning to give Santana a pointed look. "Santana is not to take a lookout shift on her own, no matter what she tells you."

"Umm okay. Is there a particular reason why she can't?" Sam asks from his place by the doorway.

"Quinn and Santana were going to take a shift tonight and then sneak out, without telling anyone. There needs to be someone on shift at all times, especially when one of us are out there," Maribel explains. "It's dangerous for the rest of us to be left unguarded. That's why," Maribel says sharply. "You can go back upstairs once you've had some dinner," she adds to Santana before turning on her heel and storming from the room.

"I'll look for Rachel," Puck murmurs to Quinn, ignoring the curious gaze Judy is directing towards him. "Not cool, Santana," he adds coldly.

"It wasn't just her," Quinn interjects.

"You had a valid reason. Santana just wants to prove a point," he remarks angrily, shooting Santana a glare as he follows Maribel from the kitchen. Santana silently stares at Quinn, waiting for her to speak up in her defence again, betrayal clouding her dark eyes when Quinn doesn't speak.

"Nice, Quinn," Santana mutters coldly, pushing her chair back and standing up. She grabs a bottle of soda from the fridge, closing the door much harder than necessary, before striding from the kitchen.

"You were planning to go out there? You and Santana?" Judy asks quietly.

"Yeah," Quinn mutters.

"Don't. I don't want you going out there. I mean it, Lucy." Judy's use of Quinn's proper name tells Quinn that she's serious. It has been a long time that her mother has acted like this; like a mother.

"Was she doing it to prove a point?" Brittany asks lowly.

"No," Quinn murmurs. She doesn't mention that it was she who brought it up to Santana in the first place, and encouraged her to go out and do her part, even before she mentioned Beth. She knows Santana won't mention that part either. She may be hotheaded and stubborn but, she's loyal. Quinn tries to ignore who guilty and selfish she feels for letting Santana take most of the blame. At the same time, if she admits to her part in the plan; she'd never be able to sneak out. They'd all watch her like a hawk like they plan to do with Santana. The fact of the matter is, if Quinn hadn't brought it up and encouraged Santana for her own gain; Santana wouldn't have started planning this. She had been doing it for Quinn, and how does she repay her? By allowing the blame to fall onto her, also for her own gain. She _has_ to go out there, now that she has the freedom, now that they are blaming Santana. Tomorrow morning, first thing, as soon as Puck leaves the room to go to the bathroom or something; she'll go. She'll find Rachel.

_**To be continued...next chapter tomorrow. Please review.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Hardly any feedback for the last chapter, don't be shy, let me know what you think :)**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 4 - December 16th

3am

Brittany sighs as she rolls over in bed and reaches out for Santana, only to find that the other side of the bed is empty. At first, she's confused; she's sure that Santana had been fast asleep when she joined her a few hours ago. Turning around to check the clock, she's disappointed to see that it's off. The power had finally failed on them. Brittany pushes herself out of bed and feels around for the sweat pants she had haphazardly thrown behind before she went to bed, pulling them on as soon as she finds them. She opens the bedroom door and walks along the hall, hearing a muffled conversation coming from the living room as she descends the stairs. As Brittany gets closer, she recognises the voices as Santana's and Quinn's, hearing anger in both of their tones. Brittany hesitates at the bottom of the staircase, glancing at Puck who gives her a wary look. His features look exhausted in the dim light that the two battery operated lanterns on the staircase offers.

"I owe Santana an apology when she comes out here," is all he says. Brittany doesn't question his statement, he obviously didn't expand on it for a reason. Brittany takes a few more steps towards the living room before hesitating again, she's unsure of what to do. Sure, she's curious but it'd be a major violation of her girlfriend's privacy to eavesdrop.

"Yeah, well you can explain to Britt because I sure as hell am not covering for you again! You hung me out to dry, Quinn." Brittany cringes at the increase of volume and fury in Santana's voice, making the decision to go in there and pushing the living room door open. The argument ceases instantly, Santana and Quinn both turning to look at Brittany in the darkened room.

"The power's gone," Brittany states simply.

"Yeah. It went off around an hour ago, babe," Santana says, her voice softer now that she's talking to her girlfriend. Her dark eyes flash angrily when Quinn brushes passed her, muttering about going to bed. She doesn't say anything, just continuing to glare at the doorway, an exasperated sigh leaving her lips.

"You weren't doing it just to prove a point," Brittany murmurs knowingly. Santana gazes at her girlfriend and sighs softly, her hands lightly resting on her hips.

"At first, I was," Santana admits, "I don't like being told no and, I guess, I was just being ridiculous and stubborn. Then when Quinn told me I should go out there and said that we needed to prove ourselves, I got riled up," Santana sighs.

"That's what she said? That you needed to prove yourself?" Brittany questions, anger sneaking into her tone. Santana nods, sighing heavily through her nose as she shakes her head irritably.

"Then she started talking about needing to know that Beth is safe, all I could think about was how I'd feel if I didn't know if you or my mom were okay. I knew I needed to help her." Santana explains. "She's gonna go out there by herself, that's what I would do."

"I just can't believe she let you take all the blame," Brittany murmurs. "I'm sorry, babe, I didn't even give you a chance to explain."

"I didn't offer any explanations," Santana shrugs. She frowns when she sees Quinn storm passed the living room door, Puck chasing after her. "What the fuck is she doing now?" Santana strides out of the living room and into the kitchen, Brittany hot on her heels, find Quinn attempting to move all the crap that they have barricading the back door. "Quinn, what the hell are you doing?" Santana demands, grabbing Quinn's arm and yanking her away from the door.

"Get your damn hands off me, Santana!" Quinn snaps, tugging her arm out of Santana's grasp. "I'm going out there and that's final. None of you have any right to stop me."

"Don't be an asshole, Quinn," Santana snaps, you can't go out there by yourself!"

"Santana's right, you can't go out there. I said I would find Rachel and I meant it, just...let us handle it, Quinn," Puck says pleadingly.

"I won't going out there myself so long as Santana keeps her word, she said she was gonna go with me," Quinn retorts, "Let's go," she adds, gazing at Santana with challenge in her furious hazel eyes.

"Quinn...I can't, I'm sorry."

"I knew you were all talk, what a fucking surprise," Quinn scoffs. "You act like you're tough but when push comes to shove, you're actually just a scared little daddy's girl," Quinn states harshly, intentionally pushing Santana's buttons. Deep down, she knows she's being crazy, knows that she isn't herself but, unfortunately, her anger stops any of that from coming through.

"You know what, Quinn...go fuck yourself," Santana barks. "You want to act completely insane and get yourself killed, go fucking do it!"

"What's going on?!" They all whip around when they hear Maribel's voice, surprise on each of their faces when they see her standing in the doorway, tightening her tone as she glares at the four teenagers. Her face lands on her obviously furious daughter last, her anger instantly melting away and being replaced with concern. She had assumed that Santana would be an instigator in this and guilt flows through her as she realises she is wrong.

"I'm going out to find Rachel," Quinn says seriously, her determination only slightly faltering when she sees her mother blearily join Maribel in the doorway.

"No, you're not," Judy states, her voice and features surprisingly calm. "It's far too dangerous."

"Which is exactly why I need to do this, it's dangerous, and Beth might not be okay!" Quinn breathes heavily and stares desperately at her mother.

"Girls, back to bed," Maribel murmurs to Santana and Brittany, holding up her hand when they open their mouths to argue. "It's late, and this is none of our business. Bed. Now." Santana rolls her eyes and shoots Quinn a dark look as she and Brittany are ushered out of the kitchen, Quinn quietly scoffing at her.

"You really feel like you need to do this?" Judy asks softly.

"Yes. I'd like your support..for once," Quinn mutters and guilt hits Judy in the gut like a steam train.

"Okay. Then you'll have it, on three conditions," Judy murmurs, Quinn watching her mother curiously. "First, you have to wait until it is light out. Second, you will not go by yourself," Judy explains.

"Done," Quinn states instantly.

"I'm not done," Judy says firmly. "Not today. I want you to go to bed, get some sleep and then spend the rest of the day tomorrow thinking about it and making some sort of plan. Then, if tomorrow..Monday...you still want to do this, I will support you," Judy tells her.

"What's the point in waiting?" Quinn asks in confused anger.

"I want you to be sure about this, there are..._zombies_ outside, Quinn. Zombies! Do you realise how ridiculous that is? And how dangerous it is? For all you know, this is a wild goose chase," Judy exclaims.

"Your mom is right, Quinn," Puck states softly. "We'll go but not today. You're not thinking straight. At all. This is not a decision that you should be making when your head isn't in the right place. I will do everything in my power to protect you and to find out how Beth is or where she is but I won't go out there with someone who isn't in control of herself. Please, just listen to her, she's making sense."

"Fine," Quinn bites out, "but I won't change my mind, I promise you that."

"Then I guess we'll be going out first thing Monday morning," Noah immediately retorts.

"I guess we will," Quinn shoots back. Puck nods, holding Quinn's strong gaze. He watches as she turns on her heel and storms out of the kitchen, letting out a breath he hadn't even realised he had been holding.

"Promise me you'll bring her back here safely," Judy states seriously.

"I promise. I'll make sure Sam or Dave is with us, the more of us that go; the more chance we'll have," Noah mutters. "Are you sure about this?"

"No," Judy sighs, "but she is."

_**To be continued...the real action begins in the next chapter, if you're interested that is ;)**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you to those who left feedback.**_

Chapter 5 - December 17th

Maribel sips her coffee as she watches Judy pace the length of the kitchen. She had been pacing for the last twenty minytes, ever since Quinn had come downstairs for some coffee before disappearing back to the room she and Judy are sharing to get ready for her venture outside. Maribel had tried to calm the other other woman down but it had proven to be pointless. She's not surprised, she can't even begin to imagine how it feels to be waiting for her child to go outside when there is life threatening danger around every corner. It had been terrifying enough finding out Santana was out there a mere few minutes before the teenager had come home.

"Am I doing the right thing?" Judy asks desperately.

"You're the only person who can answer that, I'm afraid," Maribel reluctantly murmurs.

"Maribel, please."

"Well," Maribel sighs, "at least this way she's not going to be alone and she's not doing it behind your back. If you had said no, Quinn probably would have gone anayway, behind everyone's backs and without anyone knowing where she is, how long she has been gone. We'd be guessing all day what kind of protection she had with her and wondering if she'd been gone long enough for us to worry about her coming back. This is the most control you can have in this situation. Quinn isn't gonna let this go, so I think, in these circumstances, you're doing the best thing," Maribel explains.

"I'm just so damn scared," Judy mutters, "I haven't been a mother to her for a long time...at least not in the way I should have been. The one and only good thing to come out of all this is that it has forced me to stop drinking, forced me to see how truly amazing and beautiful my daughter is." Judy stops pacing and leans against the kitchen counter, her hands buried deep into the pockets of her jeans. "Now, it may end before it's truly began," Judy whispers.

"You can't think like that," Maribel states strongly. "Noah and Sam will be with her and she is a strong young woman, both mentally and physically. Quinn is smart, she'll be careful and she _will_ be back here tonight in time for dinner.

"Yeah. It's Santana's night to cook and I don't want to miss seeing her lose her temper while trying to cook food for eight people on that tiny camping stove," Quinn smirks as she walks into the kitchen. "Please stop worrying, mom, I'll be fine. I promise," Quinn tells Judy as reassuringly as she can.

"You don't have to do this," Judy states softly, "the boys said they'd do it without you if you change your mind."

"I _do_ have to do this, mom, and I'm going to. I'll be fine, okay? Puckerman and Sam are gonna be right there and we have weapons and I can fight. God knows I've fought with Santana enough times to learn how to," Quinn jokes weakly.

"See, I _knew_ you were learning from me," Santana's voice floats into the kitchen before she does. "You always act so damn badass but _I'm_ teaching _you_. I can not tell you how happy this makes me," Santana grins as she leans against the doorway. "You got everything you need?" she asks, her voice and features becoming more serious.

"Yeah, Puck helped me...showed me how to work some stuff and gave me some tips," Quinn nods.

"I'll have your back when you go out there..."

"No, you will not," Maribel interrupts her sternly.

"...when I'm on the roof," Santana finishes loudly, staring pointedly at her mother before sighing and rolling her eyes. When will her mother stop jumping to conclusions and assuming the worst of her. Probably when she stops giving her reasons to.

"You're on look-out?" Quinn questions.

"Yeah, I'll have the front of the house and Dave will have the back. Brittany will be hanging around as an extra set of eyes too," Santana explains. "We'll have your back while you're nearby. Be careful and take good care of yourself, you hear me?" Santana demands, tugging Quinn into a bone crushing hug.

"Yeah. I will."

"This doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you, just so you know," Santana adds. "See you soon."

"See you soon."

0-00-0

Dave offers his hand to Santana as she climbs out of the attic window, the young woman accepting his help and carefully shuffling towards the chimney. She shakily stands next to it, stretching her arm out to steady herself against the old brick of the chimney. Dave silently pulls his abseiling harness out of his small backpack, carefully helping Santana step into it and fiddling with the straps until he deems it tight enough. He attaches the other end to the chimney, looping it around it until the rope is short enough to only allow Santana to move a few feet.

"Take a few steps down until the rope is tight, stand with your left leg in front so that it's taking most of your weight and you feel completely steady." He watches as Santana does as she's directed, not missing the flicker of fear in her eyes that disappears almost as soon as he spots it. "You remember what I showed you? How to aim and how to re-load?" he questions.

"Yeah, I got it. I'm good," Santana responds with confidence. "I don't see any."

"There will be at least one of them close by, there always is," Dave murmurs as he sorts out his own harness, moving with much more ease than Santana had as he shimmies a few metres down the other side of the slanted roof.

"Where did you get all this stuff?" Santana asks curiously, trying to ignore the bitterly cold breeze that gently blows her hair.

"Puck and I got it all the day this all started. We busted into that outdoor specialists store down the block from Breadstix. We knew that any survivors would be emptying the place out so we got there first," Karofsky explains. "We had no idea how to use these harnesses when we first got them, Puckerman nearly fell off the roof," Dave chuckles lightly. His grin widens when he notices Santana's body go rigid, imagining that her eyes are like saucers right now. "Relax, Lopez, I'm kidding. I used to use all sorts of outdoor equipment with my dad, we went camping a lot." Dave's smile falters as he thinks about his dad.

"They're leaving," Santana suddenly states, "they've gone out the front door."

"Okay, keep your eyes peeled," Karofsky tells her, shuffling up the sloped roof so that he's leaning against the chimney and facing the same way as Santana. They watch as their friends make their way to the truck, Dave noticing movement out of the corner of his eye and spinning around. He glares at the shufflng, rotting version of one of the local cops, bile rising in his throat as he takes in the slimy, infected flesh of the man through the lense of his rifle. His finger squeezes the trigger, his perfect aim ensuring it's a head shot and the silencer taking care of any threats of others overhearing. Dave nods in satisfaction as the body hits the concrete, gazing at it for a second longer before turning around again.

"You took care of it?" Santana questions.

"I took care of it," he confirms, watching as Puck, Sam and Quinn get into the truck, his eyes never leaving the vehicle until it is completely out of sight. "And now, we wait...and watch."

0-00-0

Puck perches on top of the truck, his gun poised while he watches as Sam siphons gas from nearby abandoned vehicles. Quinn stands with her back to him, pointing her gun in the opposite direction from Puck's. it's quiet, too quiet. It unnerves her. At least if there was a mob of them stumbling towards them, she'd know where they are. This, not knowing, is freaking her out. She wishes the Sam would hurry up and finish stealing the gas, none of them can fire their guns anywhere near him while there is gas pouring into the canister he brought with him.

"You okay?" Puck questions Quinn quietly.

"Yeah," Quinn whispers. "You?"

"Yeah." Puck catches movement out of the corner of his eye and whips around, firing his gun. The plastic bag floating along the street didn't put much fight against his bullets and he almost laughs at himself. "Damn it," he mutters to himself.

"How long have you been staying at Santana's place?" Quinn asks lowly.

"Since it started."

"Is your mom...didn't she want you to stay?" Quinn questions, stumbling over her words.

"She and my sister got infected," Puck mutters, "I had to...I had to stop them."

"Oh, Noah, I'm so sorry," Quinn breathes out, her eyes welling with tears that blur her gaze.

"My sister got curious, she thought they were filming a movie or something. I was in the basement playing Xbox, I hadn't seen the news, didn't know there was anything wrong. My mom must have ran after her, I had my headphones on...didn't hear their screams until it was too late," Puck whispers. "They were already one of them...I had to...defend myself against them."

"You did the right thing," Quinn whispers sadly.

"I know," he responds gruffly. "Still fucking sucks." He lifts his gun and fires a couple of rounds, Quinn jumping in fright. She hadn't even seen those two lumbering, rotting figures approaching. "Pay attention," Puck barks. "I'm done going up against the people I love." Quinn raises her eyebrows in surprise, his words had been so sincere that she doesn't feel like it would be right to remind him that she's in on and off relationship with Sam.

"Sorry. I'll be more careful," she responds softly.

"You better, or I'll take you back."

0-00-0

Santana knows that Brittany is watching her. She _always_ knows when Brittany is watching her. Santana stays silent and keeps her back to Brittany, mostly to hide the smirk that she can feel pulling at her lips. Even during a zombie apocalypse, Brittany can make her feel like a giggly little girl; just by looking at her.

"Your ass always did look great in those jeans," Brittany muses and Santana hears Dave scoff, "but that harness just frames it perfectly. It makes me want to jump on you right now."

"I really wish you wouldn't." Brittany turns bright red when Dave speaks, she hadn't realised that he was close enough to overhear her. Santana carefully shuffles around to look at her girlfriend, smiling sweetly at her in greeting. Dave moves back to the chimney, "Santana, I'm gonna loosen it slowly, don't take your harness off until you're inside the window," he warns. Santana turns to gaze curiously at him. "It's pretty quiet just now and I don't think they'll be back for another few hours yet. I'll be okay on my own for a little bit."

"Thanks, Dave."

"Not a problem." Santana shimmies over to the window and slides in, Brittany lifting her done from the ledge and firmly pressing their lips together. Santana pulls out of the kiss and loosens her harness before stepping out of it and tossing it aside, letting out a low sigh.

"You okay?" Brittany asks softly, using her finger to lift Santana's chin.

"Yeah. I just...I've seen them before but I've never had a chance to really look at them before," Santana shudders. "They're..really gross," she whines and Brittany can't help the chuckle that leaves her throat. She gently tugs on Santana's arm and leads her over to one of the cots, sitting on it and leaning against the wall. Santana automatically sits down between her girlfriend's legs, leaning back against Brittany's chest and letting out a contented sigh.

"Thank you for not going with them. I know you could have gone if you had chosen to. People saying no to you isn't something that usually works," Brittany murmurs.

"You would have been scared if I had gone with them, huh?" Santana's voice is soft and timid and she turns to sit sideways, her legs spread out across the length of the cot.

"Yeah," Brittany whispers, "just thinking about you going out there terrifies me more than you know."

"That's why I didn't go," Santana admits, "I had a nightmare last night. You had gone out there, snuck out while we were all arguing about who should go. I was scared, so scared. Even after I woke up, I was terrified. I knew I couldn't make you feel like that," Santana explains quietly.

"You should have woken me up," Brittany murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to Santana's temple and wrapping her arms around her, pulling her girlfriend close. "You don't need to be so brave all the time, not with me. I'm not going to judge you for being scared. To be honest, I'd be really concerned if you weren't scared. This...situation is something that people only thought could happen in movies. It's literally like a horror movie out there," Brittany states quietly.

"I was petrified when I went out before, even though Puck and Karofsky were there. We were chased back to the truck just after we found Quinn, I felt like I couldn't breathe," Santana whispers. "It wasn't until we got back to the truck that I remembered I had a gun and then used it. It was like my thoughts just froze," she mutters, "thank god my body didn't."

"You didn't look like you were scared," Brittany notes, "all I could see in your eyes was anger and determination...I was searching for fear in them but I couldn't see any."

"Adrenaline, I guess," Santana shrugs. "We're all gonna have to go back out there at some point, we can't stay here forever but I'm scared that not all of us will make it."

"We will, all of us will," Brittany murmurs soothingly. "We just need to stick together. You look exhausted, try and get some rest before you go back out to the roof. I love you."

"I love you too, Britt."

0-00-0

Puck frowns as he guides the truck into Rachel's street, this street seemingly suffering more trauma than the others. There's broken glass and blood and personal belongings everywhere. He looks away when he notices a mauled body lying beside an abandoned prius, it looking as though the person has been completely inside out. Bile rises in his throat and bends over, throwing his hand out to brace himself against his truck as he empties his stomach on the sidewalk. He can feel a warm hand on his back, Quinn's, slowly rubbing gentle circles.

"Don't look over there," Puck chokes out, "Please don't look over there."

"Alright, alright, I won't," Quinn reassures him, glancing over at Sam in concern and noticing that he looks paler than usual. He had looked.

"Ugh, this is so fucking messed up!" Puck groans, tears in his eyes from throwing up and his voice hoarse. "How can this be fucking happening?!"

"Dude, keep your voice down," Sam hisses, "if there are any of them nearby, they'll hear us. We need to be quiet, we don't have any lookouts," Sam explains, not unkindly..just in a panic as he wildly looks around them.

"I know. Fuck, I'm sorry...I just...I hate this," Noah groans.

"We all do, man. Let's just find Rachel and get out of here. She might not even be here so I don't want to be out here risking our lives for too long. It's been too quiet, our luck is bound to run out sometime," Sam mutters, completely unnerved.

"What if she's not here? What if she got out of here or..you know..?" Quinn asks softly.

"We go home," Sam shrugs and Quinn is grateful. She knows Sam well enough to know what he actually means with his response; he's not going to hold it against her if this does turn out to be a wild goose chase. Quinn is somewhat convinced that it will be but she knows she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she hadn't at least tried. "You okay, man? We need to keep moving," Sam murmurs as he moves to stand beside Puck, clapping his hand on his back.

"Yeah," Puck sighs, "let's go." Quinn leads the way to Rachel's house, she had been the only one who had been sober enough to know where they were when they had a party there during alcohol awareness week. Well, when they first arrived anyway. Puck pushes her out of the way when they reach the house, walking into the front yard first while Sam hangs back, watching for any of the infected. He climbs onto the porch to get a little extra height and looks into one of the windows.

"Downstairs looks pretty abandoned," Puck murmurs, glancing back at Quinn and then signalling to Sam that he's going to climb further up. Sam nods in response, instantly ready to cover his friend. Puck crouches down as he walks along the top of the porch, from this height he could easily be seen by one of them; it's too risky for him to be seen now. He sneaks along to the first window he sees and glances inside, instantly recognising Rachel's room. Now that there's no power, it's hard to tell if the house is currently being lived in. The room looks empty and his heart sinks as he realises their chances of finding Rachel just got slimmer. If she's not here, there's very few place she would actually go that are considered even slightly safe right now. As he moves further along the top of the porch, he swears that he hears a clatter from inside the house but does his best to not get his hopes up. The first thing he sees, when he peers into the dirty window of the master bedroom, is pair of legs. the second thing he sees is the gun aimed at him.

"Noah?" He gapes at the person staring back at him from the other side of the glass, his heart thumping against his ribcage as adrenaline rushes through his body, relief soon joining the adrenaline.

"Shelby?"

_**To be continued... Please let me know what you think.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**If you're reading this, your feedback would be extremely appreciated :)**_

_**This chapter goes out to Stacprit who always manages to make me feel great about my writing! Thank you.**_

Chapter 6 - December 18th

1am

Santana bites down on her bottom lip in a weak attempt to stop her teeth from chattering in the freezing night air. Her breath clouds in front of her in visible puffs and her eyes constantly water due to the icy wind that blows straight into her face. It's after midnight; they've been gone for more than fourteen hours. They had promised to be back before dark, something must have gone wrong. She had heard Judy yelling a little while ago and she can't blame her for being so freaked out; she is too. Her brain has been working on overtime since it got dark, imagining all of the things that could have happened to them. Santana's heart sinks as the first few flakes of the first snow of the season floats to the ground. It's just going to make all of this harder.

"Maybe the snow will help kill some of them off...well, kill them more," Karofsky murmurs. "Hopefully they will freeze."

"We're never going to get out of here," Santana mutters, "you remember how bad the snow got last year?"

"We'll get out of here," Dave states in determination. "I promise."

"We better. We're running out of food, not just in the house but in the whole of Lima. Puck told me Walmart had the most supplies left and I saw all those empty shelves," Santana says quietly. "Once the supplies run out, we're done for. We need to leave before the supplies run out because we're not gonna get very far with no food or water."

"Try telling your mom that. I said that to her a week ago," Karofsky informs her. "She still thinks we're gonna be rescued."

"Well, that's bullshit," Santana remarks, "Nobody is coming to rescue us, they would have come a long time ago if they were and, let's face it, how would they even know we were here? The whole town looks as though it's deserted, it doesn't look like there's anyone alive." She turns her attention to the attic window when she hears it scrape open, sending Brittany a weak smile. "Everything okay, babe?" she asks softly.

"Judy's drunk. She found some vodka in the basement from the last party you threw," Brittany states sadly. "She was hysterical, she keeps saying that Quinn is dead. She crashed out on the couch a little while ago."

"Quinn's not dead. I know she's not dead," Santana replies as reassuring as she can. "They'll be back soon. Try not to worry, sweetheart."

"I'm doing my best," Brittany murmurs.

"Have you eaten yet?"

"No, I haven't been all that hungry recently," Brittany states.

"Babe, you need to eat. Please go eat something. For me?" Santana pleads, smiling when Brittany nods. "Thank you, I'll come inside as soon as they're home, okay?" She watches sadly as Brittany closes the window again, it's like she's been watching Brittany's optimism fade away over the last few days. It sucks. Santana turns back around and looks down at the empty street, watching as it is dusted with a layer of snow and praying that they come home soon; before the weather gets too bad. She wiggles her cold fingers and swaps hands so that she is holding the gun in her right; giving her left hand a break now that it's starting to cramp up.

"It's after midnight," Karofsky mutters.

"Yeah, I know."

"It's the eighteenth, offically one week until Christmas," he explains and Santana raises her eyebrows in surprise. It's almost Christmas already? Time sure does fly when you're barricaded inside your house while hiding from zombies. Fucking zombies. It shouldn't even be possible. They fall back into silence, it only ever being broken by the whisper of the silencers on their guns whenever one of the infected stumble into their sights. An hour passes mostly uneventfully and Santana feels her hopes slowly fade away and, instead, she wonders how the hell they'd tell Judy that Quinn and the guys hadn't come home. The sidewalk slowly disappears under a layer of snow, burying the carnage. It looks peaceful and strangely beautiful. A serene, betraying lie. The rattling hum of Puckerman's truck is like music to Santana's ears and she whips her head around to look at Karofsky, the young man giving her a nod and a hopeful smile.

"I'd recognise the sound of that beat up truck anywhere," Santana mutters.

"They'll come in the back door," Karofsky states as he clumsily moves back up to the chimney, "Go downstairs, start moving everything away from the door, I'll cover them," he orders, loosening Santana's rope. "Be careful, the roof is slippier now." Santana moves as Quickly as is safely possible to the window and noisily hauls it open. She tumbles inside and curses softly as she untangles herself from the harness and slips it off. She's surprised to see her mother standing there, her face pale and her eyes scared and curious.

"They're back, we need to clear the door," Santana explains quickly, not missing the look of sheer look that crosses Maribel's face.

"I'll help," Maribel replies, chasing after her daughter as she clambers down from the attic and jogs along the hall. They rush down the stairs two at a time and by the time Maribel catches up, Santana is already moving things away from the door, Brittany desperately pushing against the fridge. They work together, pushing all of the heavy furniture away from the doorway, Santana pulling her gun from her back pocket as she unlocks the door. She rips the door open and immediately points her gun outside, desperately looking around for any threats. Santana relaxes as Sam leads the group into the back yard, Quinn firing a few shots behind them. Her eyebrows creases in confusion and concern as Puck comes into view, carrying Rachel bridal style as Shelby jogs along beside him, trying hard to keep up with his long strides. Santana stands aside to allow them to file in, Quinn and Sam automatically helping her to barricade the door again as soon as it is closed.

"What happened to Rachel?" Brittany questions as she follows Puckerman and Shelby into the living room. Santana shoots Quinn an enquiring look, the other girl understanding that Santana also wants to know the answer to that.

"Shelby found her like that two days ago, she barricaded herself in the house with hardly any supplies," Quinn explains. "Beth is with Shelby's parents, they were evacuated as soon as the virus hit New York five days ago. It turns out that Rachel's fathers were amongst the first bodies to be found and it was on the news. Shelby spent the last few days travelling here to find Rachel," she states, an expression of awe and respect on her face. "Shelby said she found Rachel just like slowly starving to death, it's lucky she got there when she did."

"Damn," Santana breathes. "It's probably good that you guys got there when you did too. Beth is definitely okay?"

"Yeah, she got on one of the military evacuation planes. Shelby doesn't know where she is but her parents are with her and she's safe. That's the main thing," Quinn says, relieved.

"Shelby says the military are at the mexican border until eleven fifty nine at night on Christmas eve. It should only take us like a day and a half, or maybe two days, to drive there," Sam explains with a hopeful grin on his lips. "We can get out of here, we can be evacuated."

0-00-0

3:30pm

Santana slips into the bathroom and locks the door behind her, almost tripping over one of the several candles that are spread across the floor. She smiles softly as she gazes at Brittany laying soaking in the bath, looking stunning in the warm glow of the candlelight. Santana slowly strips out of her clothes and places them beside the sink, well away from any of the candles.

"I'm glad you decided to join me," Brittany murmurs. "To save time, of course."

"Of course," Santana smirks.

"I'm being serious, I had to boil water on that little camping stove. I had to refill the kettle thirteen times before the water was warm enough."

"Oh, well if you just want to save time then I'm no longer interested in having a bath with you," Santana playfully huffs.

"Santana...get in the damn tub."

"Yes, ma'am," Santana grins as she clambers into the warm water, leaning against Brittany and pushing her butt as close to Brittany's crotch as is physically possible. Brittany wraps her arms around Santana's waist, her hands resting on her toned stomach as she presses a gentle kiss to her girlfriend's neck.

"How's Rachel doing?" Brittany asks softly as her nails gently scratch the firm, smooth flesh of Santana's stomach.

"Pretty much the same, she's had some water and a little food. My mom says we have to be careful, her stomach won't be able to handle too much food after going without it for too long," Santana explains. "Everyone is asleep apart from Puck and Dave, they're on the roof..Sam's gonna take over in a few hours because they need to get some rest before they go out to find a bigger vehicle once it's light out."

"When are we leaving?"

"Hopefully tomorrow afternoon but it depends on what time they get back. Everyone wants it to be light out when we leave, just in case we pass any survivors on the streets," Santana murmurs. "I think they're gonna steal a school bus or something, there's no chance in hell we could all squeeze into that truck."

"The military didn't evacuate anyone here, why do you think that is?" Brittany asks in a small, timid voice.

"I dunno, baby girl," Santana shrugs, "maybe it just took them a while to get organised. The military are prepared for lots of things, but I don't think zombie apocalypse is one of them," she weakly jokes. "Or maybe they did evacuate here, maybe it was after the tv and radio stopped working."

"Do you think we'll make it?"

"Yeah. We're gonna make it, I know we will," Santana states with confidence. She waits for more questions, but no more come and a blissful silence fills the bathroom. Santana actually feels pretty relaxed. In just a few short hours, Puck and Karofsky are gonna be leaving to find a bus and once the bus is here, they can leave. The thought of getting out of here and heading to safety fills her with confidence. They've last so long and done so well, they've almost made..this is almost over. "Britt?" she questions softly.

"Yeah, San?"

"When this is over, I want to marry you," Santana whispers, feeling more vulnerable that she ever has before.

"What? Are you serious?" Brittany questions, a little louder than she means to.

"Yeah. I want us to go to New York, I want to find somewhere to stay and then I want to marry you as soon as I turn eighteen," Santana murmurs. "Brittany, will you marry me?"

"Yes, Santana, I'd love to be your wife."

0-00-0

Puck looks around them as he tightens the straps of his backpack, warily watching for any signs of the infected. He knows that walking to Mckinley is the best option, it means they can be quiet and it means they don't need to abandon his truck; they may need it later. Yes, he knows that, but he also knows that walking is the most dangerous option. He glances back at Karofsky and they make eye contact for a miniscule moment, both of them realising that the other guy is just as nervous and scared as the other one is. Strangely, knowing that they feel the same is both unnerving and soothing at the same time. Two feelings that rarely go together.

"We should have left earlier," Karofsky states lowly as he looks up at the setting sun.

"No power means we have no alarm clocks anymore, Sam couldn't leave the roof to wake us up..it would have been too risky," Puck murmurs. "It'll be fine, we just need to be quick."

"I still feel exhausted," Dave sighs, "I can't wait for this to be over."

"I know what you mean, dude." They fall into silence as they walk further away from the Lopez house, each one of their senses tingling with anticipation and fear. Once again, the streets are quiet and Dave hopes that it's because they're finally dying off. The snow crunches beneath their heavy boots and they make sure to keep an eye out for trails of footprints that don't belong to them. One of the infected stumbles out of a doorway and Karofsky automatically fires at the figure, realising a split second later that he recognises who the zombie once was. Finn Hudson. Puck gazes down at his ex fellow glee clubber in disgust, and neither he or Karofsky feel any sadness about what had happened to him. As far as Puck is concerned, Finn deserves this for what he did to Santana and Brittany.

"Remind me to tell Santana about this," Dave mutters, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"No more Hero Finn, my heart is breaking," Puck remarks dryly. He shakes his head at the rotting figure before turning on his heel and continuing to walk down the quiet street, Karofsky silently following after him. The larger of the two falls deep into thought, if he hadn't turned his life around and stopped the bullying, would that have been him? Despised enough that people are happy when you're dead? "That's not you anymore, man," Puck states seriously. "You were confused, it doesn't excuse it, but you learned from it and you stepped up to apologise. It must be hard trying to work out who you are," he shrugs.

"How did you know?" Karofsky questions softly.

"I overheard you and Santana talking about it a few days ago," Puck explains.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"What is there to say?" Noah shrugs, "you're gay, it's not a big deal. I don't care if a dude likes dudes." A small smile appears on Dave's face and he nods his gratitude, not trusting himself to speak. He can't afford to lose it right now, not while they're out in the open...on foot. They trudge through the snow in silence, both of them with their guns raised, ready for any surprise attacks. When they eventually reach Mckinley it's no longer quiet. There's a large mob of lumbering, infected figures gathered outside of the sports equipment shed at the back of the high school, beside the football field.

"There must be someone in there," Dave murmurs, frequently checking behind them for any signs of more of the infected. The voice that screams pleas for help from the shed is a voice that they recognise, and the figure that they see sprinting towards the mob outside the shed, baseball bat in hand, is a figure that they recognise. "Shit."

"Let's go!" Puck yells, taking off across the parking lot, sprinting as fast as he can to help out their friend. Dave watches him for a few seconds, glancing once more at the growing crowd outside of the shed before, he too, sprints across the parking lot..heading straight to them.

_**There's been very little feedback for the last few chapters, a lot of hard work has gone into this so please let me know what you think.**_

_**To be continued...**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you so much for the great reviews for the last chapter! I so appreciate them!**_

_**A/N - I know you guys may be expecting more details about what happened inside the school but it felt far too insensitive to keep that part in the story after what has happened recently. I'm sure you understand that I had to remove it from the chapter.**_

Chapter 7 - December 19th

Dave's knuckles pop against his skin as he grips onto the steering while, staring intensely at the road, not hearing a word of the several conversations that go on around him. The others question Mike and Puck loudly, trying to find out what had happened back at the school, the traumatised young men barely registering that they're being spoken to. Santana and Brittany are the only ones not answering questions, only because they are curled up one one of the seats together at the back of the bus; fast asleep. Everyone had noticed that they had been acting differently since yesterday but nobody could work out why, they had kept it to themselves, sharing adoring smiles and tender kisses. The focus had shifted from them to the boys when they had come home with the bus, silent, bruised and pale; Mike with them with red rimmed eyes. Everyone's questions had been ignored from the minute they walked into the house until now; thirty minutes into their journey. Even another argument between Quinn and Santana, over what they would need to take with them, had broken the three young men from their trance.

"Alright, that is _enough!_" Maribel's furious voice cuts into the babble of voices and they fall silent. "Everyone sit down and leave them alone _now._" Puck briefly meets Maribel's gaze, sending her a look of gratitude before accepting the bottle of water she offers him. He drains the bottle in mere seconds and stares out of the window as they pass a large group of the infected, his stomach bottoming out when he sees that they are fighting over something. He can guess what it is. "Noah, you should try to eat something," Maribel murmurs, "or at least get some sleep, you've been awake since yesterday morning."

"I can't go to sleep, not yet," Puck mutters, his voice hoarse as he speaks for the first time since last night, since he had watched Tina turn into one of them.

"Okay, sweetheart, please try to eat something though," Maribel states softly, kissing the top of his head before moving further up the bus to hand a bottle of water and a sandwich to Mike. He looks like he is about to pass out and he jerks is surprise when he feels her hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You need to eat, you look feint," Maribel explains. Mike doesn't respond, doesn't even look at her. He's in shock. Maribel wishes she knew what had gone down at the school but she knows she can't force it out of them, they need to tell their story in their own time. She wanders back to her seat, sparing a glance at Judy as the woman sips on a can of soda, knowing that she is wishing there was something stronger on the bus. Maribel knows that it had been hard for her to sit in the house doing nothing while Quinn was out there but she can't help but feel a little angry with her. Your child should _always _come first. At least she's trying, Maribel has to give her credit for that.

"There's so many of them," Judy murmurs, "they're everywhere."

"We'll be safe soon," Maribel says reassuringly.

"We've been lucky," Shelby adds her two cents from her seat across the aisle from them, the three mothers automatically glancing at their daughters. "Well, most of us have been."

"They have us," Maribel mumbles, "we can't replace the people they've lost but we can offer support and love," she adds strongly, glad to see that Judy and Shelby nod their agreement. They can help these kids through it.

0-00-0

Brittany moans softly as wakes up, keeping her eyes firmly squuezed closed as snuggles her pillow. Wait, that's not her pillow. She briefly cracks her eyes open and grins before closing them again and adjusting her head on Santana's chest; much better than a pillow. Santana's arms automatically tighten around her, even in sleep, and Brittany can't help the tender smile that tugs at her lips. Her girlfriend...no, her fiance is so protective. Santana always tells Brittany that she counts herself as the luckiest person in the world to have Brittany as her soul mate but Brittany disagrees; she's the lucky one. She snuggles closer to Santana, jostling her as she does so and Santana groans lowly.

"It's not time for school yet, five more minutes," Santana grumbles tiredly, her eyes still closed and a frown pulling on her full lips.

"Shh, just go back to sleep, babe," Brittany chuckles softly, lifting her hand to Santana's brow and stroking gently, soothing her back to sleep. She lifts her gaze when she feels someone watching her, meeting Maribel's tender gaze and smiling. Maribel carefully and quietly moves up the bus and sits down in front of Santana and Brittany, eyeing them both with a knowing smile.

"When did she ask you?" Maribel asks in a whisper.

"What?" Brittany chuckles nervously.

"You are wearing one of Santana's rings, which I wouldn't say was unusual, apart from the fact that it's my mother's ring and it's on your ring finger," Maribel says gently.

"I don't have to wear it, I..I.. I didn't realise it was your mother's," Brittany stutters, suddenly even more nervous and beginning to get worked up.

"I'd be upset if you didn't wear," Maribel remarks. "My mother's ring is important to my daughter and, if I hadn't already known how much she loves you, her giving you that ring would have told me. You're already an important part of this family, Brittany. If you want to make your love more official, I support it," she states with a soft smile.

"Thank you, mama L," Brittany whispers, blinking back unexpected tears.

"You're welcome. You just let me know if that daughter of mine causes trouble, we can gang up on her," Maribel smirks, the same smirk that her daughter usually wears, and Brittany chuckles. Her features sober when her gaze lands on Mike and she feels her heart sink. She can't imagine what he's feeling, he lost the love of his life. Brittany doesn't think she'd be able to live without Santana.

"How's he doing?" Brittany questions lowly, her blue eyes filling with sadness and concern.

"Not well. Not well at all," Maribel murmurs regretfully. "He still hasn't said a word and I can't get him to eat or drink anything. Noah and David haven't said much either. The things they must have seen," Maribel shudders, "I can only imagine."

"I don't think I want to imagine it," Brittany whispers with a shake of her head.

"Well, try not to," Maribel states gently. "You just imagine what your wedding is going to be like," she adds with a wink. "You should try and get more sleep, the journey will go much quicker. Just think, by this time tomorrow we'll be safe."

"Okay, goodnight, mama L."

"Goodnight, sweetheart." Maribel stays where she is as Brittany closes her eyes and lays her head on Santana's shoulder, her hand lightly resting on Santana's stomach. Maribel sighs softly. Despite everything that is going on right now, her daughter's relationship with her girlfriend...fiance...has only grown stronger. Santana always did like to do things differently from the rest of the crowd. Once Brittany's breathing evens out, and Maribel is sure that she's asleep, she slowly stands up and turns to move back down the bus.

"I love you, mami." Maribel turns back to the teenagers when she hears her daughter's voice, gazing tenderly into tired, deep brown eyes.

"I love you too, mija," Maribel whispers softly, leaning over to press a soft, tender kiss to Santana's forehead. "One more day."

"One more day," Santana echoes. "One more day."

_**To be continued...next chapter will be up later tonight. Please review.**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you for the reviews for the last chapter.**_

Chapter 8 - December 20th

Santana glances nervously at Rachel as she walks passed the other girl's seat, her whimpering and shaking making Santana feel more and more nervous each time it happens. It makes her wonder what Rachel had seen before she had barricaded herself in her house. They had all assumed that Rachel would be fine as soon as she had some food, water and rest but Santana doubts it. Rachel looks messed up, really messed up. It unnerves Santana to see Rachel so unlike herself. Sure, she's annoying as hell but she still kinda likes her. Sometimes.

"Hey," she sighs as she slumps down next to Dave, glad to see that he had allowed someone else to take the wheel for a little bit; he looks exhausted. "How are you doing?"

"Okay," Dave grunts. Santana studies him for a moment, her concern building.

"What happened when you were at Mckinley? Do you want to talk about it?" she asks gently.

"I do, but I can't. I just can't. Not yet," Dave whispers.

"Okay, well, when you do..." Dave nods and lays his head against the window, letting out a deep sigh as they drive passed cars that have been abandoned at the side of the road, random puddles of blood and corpses littering across the road. Santana briefly lays her hand on his arm and pats it comfortingly for a few seconds before deciding to leave him to his thoughts, hopefully he'll get some well need, and deserved, rest. She notices that her mother is sitting on her own, while Judy talks to Quinn, and she moves down the aisle to sit next to her.

"You doing okay, mija?" Maribel asks kindly as her daughter slumps down next to her.

"Yeah, I guess. I just feel so...vulnerable. Being out here in the open feels worse than being trapped at home, I can't wait for us to get to border," Santana murmurs, leaning into her mother's side when Maribel wraps an arm around her shoulders.

"Noah thinks it will take another eight or nine hours to get there, then we're safe," Maribel whispers reassuringly, placing a gentle kiss to Santana's temple. "You've been so brave, sweetheart. I'm so proud of how you've handled this," Maribel states with a small smile, Santana scoffing and staring at her mami as though she is nuts. "Yes, I know, we've had a lot of arguments and, at age seventeen, you've now been sent to your rooms more times in the last few weeks than you have in your entire life. Which is really saying something because when you were a young child, I was convinced I would find six six six on the back of your head if I shaved your hair," Maribel muses. Santana rolls her eyes in amusement and waits for her mother to get to the point and, at the back of her mind, thanking god that she had never shaved her hair to check. "But, I'm still so proud of you. You've been amazing."

"Not really," Santana shrugs, "it's Britt..she's...having her with us has helped. I'd probably be a wreck if she wasn't with us. The first night, I almost snuck out because I wanted to try and find out if Dad was okay. I lost it, I was halfway out my bedroom window..no weapons..no nothing. Brittany made me stay," Santana murmurs. "I know I have tried to go out since then and have gone out once, but it was nothing like that first night. It's like the rational side of my brain just fell out of my head."

"You bring out the best in each other, I'm glad that she's with us too," Maribel states. "Remind me to lock you in your bedroom and nail your windows closed once this is all over," she adds teasingly, relieved to see the smile that spreads across her daughter's face. The blood curdling scream that echoes around the bus causes Santana's blood to run cold; it's Brittany. She moves faster than she ever moved in her entire life, shoving everyone else out of the way as she scrambles to the back of the bus, finding Brittany screaming and sobbing as she bangs her fists against the window.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Santana questions desperately, clambering onto the seat and grabbing hold of her girlfriend. "Brittany, speak to me baby!" Santana throws her mother an anxious glance as Puck hits the break, Santana jerking forward and almost landing on Brittany. Brittany cries become louder and more distressed, her hands pummelling the glass. Santana is caught off guard as Brittany pushes her away and forces her way passed the others, heading straight for the emergency exit at the back of the bus. To everyone's surprise, it's Mike who reacts first, lurching out of his seat and wrapping his arms around Brittany's waist. He pulls her back and holds her down as she shrieks and cries.

"Oh my god," Quinn's soft exclamation manages to cut through all of the noise and Santana's gaze follows Quinn's hand as she points at something outside of the bus.

"Oh my god." Tears blur Santana's gaze and she freezes on the spot. They all stare in horror at the lone, bloody figure lumbers towards the bus, the rotten flesh literally hanging from the bone is some places. Santana's breath catches, it's who it used to be that causes her heart to ache. The long blonde hair, once shiny and full of life now caked with dirt and blood. Clear blues eyes are now bloodshot and evil.

"Let me off the fucking bus! I need to get off! I need to help my mom!" Brittany screams, kicking and punching Mike as she attempts to move passed him. Her terrified voice pulls Santana out of her daze and she runs to kneel in front of her fiancé, Brittany fighting against her as she gently, but tightly, grasps her wrists.

"Keep moving, Noah!" Shelby orders loudly, "get us out of here." He reacts instantly and the bus lurches forward again, gradually picking up speed and the infected version of Brittany's mother fades further and further into the distance. Brittany struggles more, desperate to get to her mom before she disappears into the horizon.

"Sweetheart, look at me," Maribel commands, thought not unkindly, as she leans down next to the distraught teenager. "Sweetheart, you can't go get her. That's not your mama, not anymore." Brittany's struggles die down and she sobs bitterly, clutching her chest as she tips forward, leaning into Santana. Santana's arms automatically encircle her fiance's shaking body, holding her tightly and peppering kisses into soft, blonde hair. Puck glances back at them, trying to work out what is going on. He can tell that it's something bad but he's not sure what it is.

"PUCK!" He turns his attention back to the road a split second too late, automatically swerving to avoid the deer, or whatever the fuck it is. He fights for control but it's a losing battle, the sickening screech of metal being crushed and screaming meeting his ears before he blacks out.

_**To be continued...next chapter tomorrow..Please review.**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you for all of the great reviews for the last chapter! :)**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 9 - December 21st

00:15am

Santana groans as she wakes up, the bus laying on it's side, smoke billowing from underneath the hood and shattered glass littering the surrounding area. A burning pain spreads across her head and the bitter taste of blood lingers on her tongue. She can hear groaning and whimpering from next to her, her mother unsteadily crawling towards her. Shaky hands touch her back, Santana instantly knowing they belong to Brittany, and they roam all over her, checking for injuries. Pushing herself up to her hands and knees, she cries out in pain as her right arm crumples underneath her, her mother's strong arms grabbing her and stopping her from fall back to the ground.

"I think her arm is broken." Santana winces when she hears Shelby's voice. This is the last thing she needs right now.

"What the hell happened?" Santana groans, cradling her injured arm close to her chest as she leans heavily against Maribel.

"We crashed," Rachel replies bluntly and Santana glares at her. Of course the first two words Rachel speaks to her would be something that irritates her.

"Your observation skills astound me," Quinn mutters dryly as she holds her sleeve covered hand against the cut on her forehead. Santana moans softly as her mother and Brittany hoist her to her feet as gently as they can, her whole body aching with each miniscule movement.

"We need to get out of here. We need to keep moving," Karofsky says as he stoops down, too tall to stand in confined space. He gently places his arm around Judy and lifts her into his arms, glancing warily at the gaping cut in her leg.

"I'm going to kill Puck," Santana hisses.

"It was an accident, Santana," Maribel chastises gently. Santana bites down on her lip as Sam pulls himself up to the door of the bus and climbs out, gun in hand and determination in his eyes. He's surprised to find that the road is deserted, he had been convinced that the crash would have attracted some unwanted visitors. Puck follows him out, guiltily avoiding his gaze as he looks around their surroundings. Quinn is the next person out and she helps Sam lift her mother from Karofsky's arms, the young man climbing out after her. Between them, Sam and Dave manage to lift Santana out without causing her too much pain, gently carrying her along the top of the bus. Once they're all out, they quickly asses everyone's injuries. Apart from Judy and Santana, nobody seems to be hurt too badly.

"I think we need to get somewhere that's not so out in the open before we try and fix them up," Karofsky mutters, watching as the deer they had swerved to avoid scampers away. "The smell of blood might attract them, maybe...I don't know if it does but I'd feel better if weren't standing in the middle of a road with a bright yellow, smoking bus."

"Yeah, I agree," Sam mutters. "We need to be quick though," he adds, "Santana looks like she's gonna pass out and Judy is losing a lot of blood." Karofsky nods and steps forward, easily lifting Santana into his arms, ignoring her protests. Sam goes to help Judy but he backs off when she notices that she seems to prefer being helped by Quinn, leaning heavily against her daughter as they start to walk. Brittany jogs to catch up with Karofsky and takes hold of Santana's good arm, gently, but tightly, holding her soft hand.

"Britt, are you okay?" Santana asks weakly.

"No," Brittany answers honestly. "But none of us are, we'll deal with it later," she adds, surprising everyone with the strength in her voice. Santana reassuring squeezes Brittany's hand but doesn't say anything, there's nothing she can say. She can feel her mother's gaze on her and she refuses to return it, she doesn't need to see the fear in her eyes.

0-00-0

Dave's arms grow more and more tired with each step they take, and he's amazed that he's still able to keep Santana in his arms. He assumes it's down to adrenaline and the sense of urgency that flows through his blood. He estimates that they've been walking for an hour, the building that they had seen on the horizon finally getting close enough to offer some relief to the exhausted and injured group. It's eerily calm out here and they're all wondering if they're about to walk into a large group of the infected, none of them voicing this concern through fear of scaring anyone.

"Santana, stay awake please," Maribel says firmly when she catches her daughter's eyes drifting closed. "We need to check your head first."

"I'm fine, ma," Santana murmurs, her eyes still closed. "I'll feel better if I sleep."

"Santana, stay awake..I'm no..."

"I can't lose you too, San," Brittany whispers brokenly, interrupting Maribel. "Please just stay awake, you hurt your head pretty badly." Santana gazes at her fiance with tear filled eyes, unable to stand the amount of pain that she sees on Brittany's face.

"Britt.."

"Don't say it," Brittany chokes out, "Just, stay awake."

"Okay." Santana drops her gaze and studies her injured arm, grimacing at how swollen it looks, she just knows that it's broken. There's no way that it isn't. How is she supposed to fight with only one working arm. It could be worse though, she could've had broken her left arm instead; then she would have been really screwed. Relief rushes through all of their bodies as they finally reach the building, an old house that looks as though it has been recently renovated. If the situation were less serious then they would, perhaps, wonder who would live all the way out here, but all they feel is thankful relief. Puck leads the way as they walk up the long, gravel driveway, noticing a flickering glow of light through a gap in the curtains; candles.

"Just what do you think you are doing?!" A loud voice demands and Puck almost bursts into tears when he recognises the voice. Of course! If anyone were to make it through something like this safely, it would be Sue Sylvester. "Puckerman?"

"Coach Sylvester, you need to help us...we need help!" Puck tells her desperately, gesturing to the rest of their group. Sue holds up her torch and squints at the group.

"Sandbags? Q? Brittany? What the hell happened?" Sue demands as she ushers Karofsky into the house. She bolts the door closed once everything is inside, ordering Dave to take Santana into the lounge and to lay her on the sofa while Quinn helps her mother onto one of the overstuffed armchairs. "Why are you all out here? Haven't you seen those...those _things_?!"

"We were trying to leave," Shelby explains, "We crashed about ten miles back, Santana and Judy are pretty badly hurt."

"You...with the huge mouth...there's a first aid kit in the basement, go get it," Sue tells Sam, pointing to the door that will lead him to the basement staircase, Sam immediately complying and running from the room. "Alright, let me see," Sue mutters as she crouches down in front of Judy and, surprisingly, gently takes Judy's legs into her hands. "It looks pretty deep, I only have basic first aid knowledge." Nothing tells you that the situation is serious more than Sue Sylvester admitting to not knowing all the facts of the world. "Corcoran?"

"Just basic as well," Shelby murmurs regretfully as she sits next to Rachel, stroking the teenager's hair and watching her in concern.

"Okay, well, I think we need to sew it up," Sue states bluntly.

"Wait, what?" Quinn blurts out. "You just told us you only know basic first aid and now you want to sew my mother's leg up?" Quinn stares at her old cheer coach as though she is insane. She probably is.

"Quinn, she has a point," Judy states gently. "There's a lot of blood, sweetheart." Quinn clenches her jaw and sighs, looking up at Sue with a fierce glint in her hazel eyes.

"Do you think you'd be able to do it?" she demands.

"I wouldn't have mentioned it if I didn't think I could," Sue replies calmly. Quinn studies the older woman for a moment, convinced that she's going to regret agreeing with her but also knowing her mother really needs help.

"Fine," Quinn grinds out. "Do it."

"I'm going to boil some water to sterilise the needle. Q, there's a sewing kit in the closet under the stairs, get it and meet me in the kitchen. We'll need some towels for her to bite down on," Sue explains.

"No pain relief and a fucking _sewing kit_?! Are you insane?!" Quinn yells. "This is my mother...my _mother_!"

"What else do you suggest I use? If you happen to have medical supplies on you, I would happily use them instead," Sue snarks. "I'm trying to help you, stop being so damn stubborn and get the things that I asked you to!" Sue orders, stalking from the room. Quinn groans in frustration as strides out of the room. How is she supposed to find these things anyway? It's not her damn house!

"Now I understand why you and Quinn fight so much," Maribel murmurs to Santana, "you're both so alike." Santana ignores her mother's comment and swallows her need to snap at Sam for taking so long as he jogs into the room with the first aid kit. He wordlessly hands it to Maribel, as well as damp cloth, and she gently presses the cloth to the back of Santana's head.

0-00-0

Maribel winces when she hears a muffled cry of pain coming from upstairs, she can only imagine how much pain Judy is in right now. A sewing kit and a towel to bite down on. That's it. She meets Shelby's gaze and the two women share a concerned look. Maribel turns her gaze to the sofa where her daughter is laying, fast asleep. She had examined Santana's head for close to an hour before agreeing to let her get some sleep, but she still watches her carefully every few minutes, only relaxing after watching her child's chest rise and fall with deep breaths. Brittany is sitting down on the floor, fast asleep with head next to Santana's hip, Santana's hand tangled in the blonde's messy hair. She had cried herself to sleep a short while ago and, even though there is no way she is comfortable, Maribel can't bring herself to wake her up. The usually bubbly girl looks so broken, the rollercoaster ride that is her emotions seemed to have caused some sort of emotional breakdown. One minute she's happily engaged and heading towards safety, the next she's crawling out of a smashed up bus with her injured fiance. All that is enough for all them to deal with. Brittany shouldn't have to deal with what she had seen just moments before the crash, it just doesn't seem fair.

"At least she knows," Shelby murmurs, as though reading Maribel's mind. "She found out in the worst way imaginable, but at least she knows. Now, she can mourn her mother rather than spend the rest of her life wondering if she's still alive or not." Maribel nods swiping a stray tear from her cheek and sniffing softly.

"It probably means that her father and sister didn't make it either, they were together," Maribel states sadly. "They're just kids, they shouldn't have to go through all this pain. It's not right."

"I know. I wish we could make this easier on all of them," Shelby says, lowering her voice when she notices Dave glancing in her direction.

"We're all gonna get out of this," Mike mumbles and the two women turn to face him in surprise, they hadn't realised he was even in the room. "I couldn't save Tina, she was my life. I don't want you to feel the pain I feel, I'll make sure we get through this," he states strongly, Puck nodding his agreement, he knows how Mike is feeling, it's even worse for him.

"We'll get through this," Maribel nods. "All of us."

_**The next three (and final chapters) are going to be pretty intense, just a warning. Next chapter will be up tomorrow! Please review.**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter.**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 10 - December 22nd

9am

Santana rolls her eyes as her mother pulls her aside, to check the bandage on her head, for the seventh time in the last couple of hours. She knows that she is just worried about her though so she doesn't say anything about it, merely standing still and allowing her mother to peel the bandage back. She is, however, desperate to tell her mother to back off when the older woman begins checking her arm, it hurts like a bitch at the best of times...it's sheer agony when someone touches it.

"Ma, I'm fine," Santana eventually sighs. "Well, I'm not fine but there's nothing any of us can do about it right now, everyone is waiting for us," she grumbles.

"Okay, sorry," Maribel murmurs, knowing her daughter is right. She gestures for Santana to lead the way outside and follows after her. The rest of their group are huddled outside on the drive way, warily watching their surroundings. Sue isn't anywhere to be seen and that makes Maribel nervous, loose canons need to be watched.

"She's bringing the van around," Sam states, as though reading Maribel's mind.

"The van?"

"Yeah, it's kind small and there's only three seats but we'll all be able to squeeze into the back. It's one of those hippy vans," Sam says with a roll of his eyes. Santana shares an amused glance with Quinn, that's the last kind of vehicle they'd expect the cheerleading coach to have. Maribel shakes her head in disbelief and shoots her daughter a warning glare, she knows exactly what kind of joke is in her daughter's head, and it's not one that she wants to hear. Brittany moves to stand beside her and the woman soothingly rubs her back, she doesn't know what to say to the girl but she can still be there for her. She can't imagine how Brittany must be feeling, it had been hard for her to see the girl's mother as one of the infected so she knows that there are no words strong enough to describe how hard it had been for Brittany.

"Oh my god," Quinn mutters from her place next to her mother, the older Fabray leaning heavily against her. Maribel follows Quinn's gaze and rolls her eyes as she watches the brightly decorated van slowly roll towards them from the garage at the side of the house.

"Is that...a peace sign?" Dave asks in disbelief.

"Wow..." Sam breathes out, "It's...bright," he murmurs, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards in an amused smirk. Even Brittany manages a small smile, Puck doesn't...just continuing to stare at the ground, guilt in his eyes.

"My mom had one of them when I was a kid," Shelby states, "I was conceived in it," she adds to Maribel, ignoring the disgusted and embarrassed groan from Rachel.

"What are you idiots waiting for?" Sue calls out of the window, "get in." Quinn helps her mother into the front passenger seat and turns to Santana, motioning for her to take the other seat. They had agreed that the injured people would get the seats.

"I'm staying in the back with Britt," Santana murmurs, waving her off with her good hand.

"San..you're hurt," Brittany mumbles.

"I'm going in the back with you, I'll feel better with you," Santana replies firmly. She doesn't have to say that she's staying with Brittany to offer some comfort to her fiance, and be there for her, they all know. "Take the seat, Quinn," Santana states, "sit with your mom." Quinn casts an uncertain glance towards Maribel and the older Lopez nods, encouraging her to take the other seat.

"Today would be awesome, Sandbags!" Sue calls out the window, having not heard the conversation.

"She doesn't want the seat, she's going in the back to be with Brittany," Quinn tells Sue quietly as she climbs into the front and sits next to her mother.

"I don't really care," Sue shrugs, "Just get everyone in the back before I leave without them."

1pm

Santana groans in pain as the van takes a corner too quickly, her injured arm being jostled as it does and she curses under her breath in spanish. She has her head in Brittany's lap as her fiance leans against the the back of Sue's seat, and Brittany automatically strokes her hair in an attempt to soothe her; being careful not to touch the bandaged area at the top of Santana's head.

"Can't you drive a little more fucking carefully?!" Santana snaps, angrily thumping her good arm on the back of Sue's seat, it had been the third time in the last hour that Sue's driving had caused her some kind of pain.

"Santana, watch your language," Maribel scolds half heartedly, she too wishes Sue would try and be a little more careful when going around corners; they'd already been in one crash and that's more than enough for all of them.

"Calm yourself, melon chest, you were offered one of the seats," Sue retorts and Maribel glares in confused offence.

"What's with all the nicknames?" she asks Shelby quietly, hoping that teaching at the school for a few months would have given the woman some insight.

"Something to do with the surgery Santana got a while back," Shelby murmurs, not really interested in getting involved in _that_ conversation. She doesn't exactly approve of the fact that Maribel would let her teenage daughter, who is still growing, change her body in such a way.

"What surgery?" Maribel asks, noticing that Santana suddenly finds the ceiling of van _extremely_ interesting.

"The boob job," Shelby mutters, surprised to see Maribel's confusion deepen. "She didn't have a boob job?"

"No! There's no chance in hell I would have allowed that," Maribel immediately responds, turning to look over at her injured daughter, seeing the guilt and embarrassment written all over Santana's face.

"The rumour was already going around, I just went along with it," Santana shrugs, glancing up at Brittany and rolling her eyes at the 'I told you so' expression on her face.

"I don't understand you at times, Santana," Maribel states with a furious shake of her head. "That means you can stop with the terrible names now," she adds firmly, directing her angry gaze at Sue, the other woman merely nodding silently. Santana sighs and closes her eyes, hoping that her mother actually has a chance to punish her for all the things she has found out about her recently because, at least then, it will mean they have made it through this alive. It doesn't help that her heart thumps rapidly in her chest every time she feels the van accelerate or turn; half convinced that they will crash again. As she slowly drifts off to sleep, Brittany gently stroking her cheek soothingly, Santana wonders what kind of life they'll have after this. She's have to be dumb to think that they'd be able to just pick up where they left off. Puck had lost his mother and sister, Brittany had lost her mother and most likely her father and sister too. Mike lost Tina, Sam and Dave have no idea where their families are or if they're okay. She's doesn't know if her dad is okay and Rachel has lost her fathers. How could they just continue with their lives after all of that? Will they ever find out what happened to the people that they haven't seen? Where will they finished school or will they even get the chance to finish school?

"Try not to think so much," Brittany murmurs to her, knowing by the frown on Santana's face that she is deep in thought. "Try and sleep, you're exhausted," Brittany whispers, leaning down to gently kiss Santana's brow. Even after all she has been through, and all she has seen, her main concern is Santana, and she knows that the concern is going both ways. She knows Santana almost as much as Santana knows Santana.

6pm

The van is quiet and dark. The sun had set a little while ago and so had everyone's hopes of getting there soon. It's clear to anyone who is still awake that Sue has no idea where they are. Not that she'd ever admit that out loud.

"I have no idea where I'm going." Apparently she would.

"Don't you think you should have mentioned that before now?" Puck snaps. "And why the hell are your lights off? Do you want us to crash?!" he demands.

"You're one to talk, Puckerman!" Sue shoots back and Noah instantly recoils. "Sorry," she adds softly.

"It's fine," Noah mutters, surprised that she had even apologised...she must mean it. "You're helping us, I shouldn't be yelling. I'm just, well I'm fucking terrified."

"The lights don't work, I'm surprised it can even drive...the van is so old," Sue admits.

"Well, we're not going to get much further without any lights," Puck states. "We should find somewhere to stop for the night," he adds, watching curiously as Quinn awkwardly climbs into the back, almost standing on Santana. She grimaces and clumsily crawls over to Puck, sending a nervous glance back at Santana, glad to see she is still fast asleep in Brittany's arms. Santana would have kicked her ass if she had stood on her injured arm, even if she is left handed, her right arm would still be able to do some damage.

"Go sit up front, help her navigate," Quinn whispers. Puck nods and carefully edges across the van, climbing into the front seat even more awkwardly than Quinn had.

"We need to find a motel or something. There can't be too many of the infected out here in the middle of nowhere, we should be able to take care of them pretty easily," Puck murmurs to Sue and the woman nods.

"Tell me if you see somewhere."

11pm

Mike freezes on the spot when he hears a soft thump, looking around the parking lot of the deserted, run down motel that they had found a few hours ago. He glances across at Karofsky, the bulky young man perching on the roof of the van that is parked as close to their motel room as possible. Dave nods, telling him that he had heard it too. Mike holds his breath when he hears it again, louder this time...closer. He signals to Dave that he's going to check it out, ignoring Dave's gestures for him not to. The last time he had ignored something like this, Tina had ended up trapped in the equipment shed at Mckinley. The memories of what had happened after that haunt his mind as he takes a shaky step forward, gripping one of their guns in his clammy hand.

"Mike!" He ignores Karofksy's furious hiss as he slowly walks forwards, realising that the noise is coming from one of the other rooms. His heart furiously pounds against his rib cage when he hears the noise again, moving a little quicker as he unclips the safety on his gun and holds the weapon out in front of him, preparing himself for what he might find. Mike swallows dryly and leans against the wall of the motel, edging closer to the window of the room as quietly as he can. He can imagine what Tina would be saying to him now. She would be berating him for being so stupid, for risking his life like this. He has to though. Tina has already died because he made a bad decision, he can't allow anyone else to be hurt because he is too scared to do something. He has to do this. Mike's hands shake as he places them on the wall to brace himself while peering into the dirty window. All he can see is the silhouette of a figure. Whoever, or whatever, it is stands still. They need to move so that Mike can work out by they're movements if they are one of the infected or not.

"Move, you asshole," Mike whispers to himself, "move." He tenses when he hears a sudden noise behind him, a show scuffing the ground. Something solid smacks against the base of his skull, his body crumpling beneath him, and his world going black.

_**To be continued...more soon. Please let me know what you think. Thank you for reading.**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**This chapter is dedicated to Tilly. Their reviews for this story have really made me smile.**_

Chapter 11

Mike groans loudly as he is dragged to his feet, a blinding pain coursing through his skull and his legs failing him as he is all but thrown through a doorway. He forces his eyes open and gazes around him, blinking heavily and fighting against the urge to close them again. His two captors aren't what Mike expected. They're bleeding and furious and, as far as he can tell, human. Swallowing dryly he demands to know what they're doing, his voice a mere croak that the men don't seem to hear. His terrified gaze lands on several weapons that lay around the grubby room, a flash of hope rushing through him at the thought of being safe from the infected. Hope that dies when he makes eye contact with one of the men. His eyes look blood shot and his face drawn, just like Tina's had before..before she turned, before Dave had to kill her.

"You've been bitten by one of them," Mike chokes out, breathing heavily as he is pushed to the floor, slumping heavily against the wall.

"Shut up," the man grunts, the look in his eye is undeniable; fear. Mike watches him carefully as the man grabs a roll of dirty bandages and wraps it around a deep wound on his forearm. The wound looks fresh and infected at the same time, obviously a bite from one of the infected. Mike wonders how long the man has left, wonders if he'll get out of here before he turns.

"Why are you snooping around here?" the second man demands, stepping in front of Mike and glaring down at him. He shows no sign of injury or infection, his features merely angry and full of malice.

"I heard a noise, I thought I could find help," Mike croaks, deciding that it's too dangerous to mention the others, the only impression he has of these men so far is that they're dangerous.

"Where are you from?" the infected man demands breathlessly.

"Lima, Ohio," Mike answers shortly, not willing to give out anymore information than they have asked for.

"Is it safe there?"

"Obviously not. Why else would I be out here in the middle of nowhere?" Mike scoffs, shaking his head and wincing at the throbbing pain that the movement causes. "How long ago was he bitten?"

"A half hour ago, maybe. Ignore him. You don't need to worry about him...for now."

0-00-0

Dave curses as he looks around the dark parking lot, not having one single clue what to do. He sighs and worries his bottom lip with his teeth before groaning and turning on his heel, sprinting back to the motel room that the others are in. Sam looks up as the burlier teenager storms into the room, waking the others up in the process.

"Mike heard a noise and ran off, I don't know where he is," Dave tells them urgently.

"How long has he been gone?" Puck asks, immediately jumping to his feet; instantly alert.

"Ten minutes or so, I don't like this. Puck, Sam, come with me and help me find him. Everyone else get in the van, just in case," Karofsky orders them, taking charge.

"Take this," Sam murmurs, handing a shot gun to Quinn. He leans forward to kiss her, frowning when Quinn turns her head at the last second, the kiss landing on her cheek.

"Thanks," Quinn mumbles, "Be careful," she adds. Sam nods and glances over at Puck, noticing that the young man is gazing at Quinn. He turns back to Quinn and his stomach drops, she's gazing right back at Puck. He'd be a fool to ever think that Quinn will look at him the way she looks at Puck.

"Yeah," he murmurs, "you too." Sam turns to walk outside, almost bumping into Santana and Brittany. "Sorry." He and Brittany help Santana get into the back of the van, Sam avoiding any contact with them.

"Hey, Trouty," Santana murmurs to gain his attention.

"Yeah?"

"Those two have a history, don't waste your time. Find someone who'll appreciate, and deserve, your efforts," Santana murmurs. It sounds harsh, but it's something that he needs to hear. Sam sighs softly and nods. "I'm gonna be really pissed at you if you get yourself killed," Santana adds quietly.

"Thanks," Sam chuckles, "I kinda like you alive, too," he states, knowing what Santana is saying to him. She may not have said the actual word 'love' but he knows she's implying it. "Britt..."

"You too," Brittany says softly with a weak smile. "We'll see you when you get back." Sam nods and forces a smile on his face before stepping aside so that the others can get into the van. He makes his way over to Puck and Karofsky, accepting the gun that the latter hands to him.

"When we find Mike, I'm gonna kill him," Puck mutters.

"Join the club," Karofsky grumbles.

"He must have done it for a reason," Sam states quietly as they walk away from the rest of the group, "he was probably just trying to look out for us." Puck crashed their damn bus, what business does he have whining about someone else messing up.

"Whole lot of good that did," Puck grumbles and Sam forces himself to stay quiet, now is not the time for them to argue.

0-00-0

Mike blinks back burning tears as he watches the bitten man turn more and more into one of _them. _After everything, he's going to die in this room. He just knows it. The other man had left him with the infected man, the weapons had all been taken. He has no way to defend himself. Mike can only hope that the others have realised there's a reason to leave here, to keep going, to find safety. He wants them to be a long way from here if he is bitten, he doesn't want his friends to see him as one of those monsters.

"There are other people here." Mike jerks in surprise when he hears the angry hiss of the other man, he hadn't even heard the room door open. "How many of them are there?" the man demands, advancing on Mike and pulling a gun out of the waistband of his jeans and holding it to Mike's head. "How many?!" he growls.

"Just leave them alone, they'll be gone soon. They'll leave if they can't find me soon, they need to be out of here soon," Mike says pleadingly, "just let them leave, please." The man stares down at him, faltering. Mike thinks he is getting through to him and he keeps his hopeful gaze locked onto the man.

"No," the injured man grunts from the other side of the room, "no, it's too risky," he croaks. "We've worked too hard for this to let a bunch of kids ruin it."

"I'll go look for them," the man holding the gun states, "Don't worry, I'll take care of them. No loose ends."

"Do him first." Mike feels his pulse quicken, what does he mean? What are they going to do to him? He watches as the healthy man kneels down in front of his friend, pulling out a syringe with a hollow needly. He takes a few seconds to find a vein, but when he does he plunges the needle into it, extracting blood from the injured man; infected blood. Mike works out what is about to happen when the man stalks back to him, brandishing the thick needle, the syringe full of blood.

"No, no. Please don't do this," Mike begs, attempting to scramble away from him. "Please, you don't have to do this!"

"Sorry, kid, I've got a job to do. It's nothing personal." He strikes Mike with the butt of his gun, knocking him unconscious and watching as he crumples to the floor. He grabs the teenager's arm and plunges the needle into his arm, not bothering to change the thick, used needle.

"Find the others, we need to keep it going," the injured man grumbles. "I'll keep an eye on the kid." The healthy man nods, smirking, and walks out of the motel room in determination.

0-00-0

Puck groans in frustration, where the fuck is Mike?! Why the hell would he disappear somewhere on his own during all of this? He knows Mike isn't dumb, he's intelligent as hell, but he sure is acting like he is right now. Puck wants nothing more than to find Mike, and kick his damn ass! Then they can get out of here. He doesn't care if he's exhausted, he'll take over driving and he'll get them all to the border. That's all that matters, getting everyone to safety. Then he and Quinn can talk properly, and work out how they go about being together, get everything out in the open and just, god, he loves her. So, so much.

"Where the fuck is he?" Karofksy groans, brushing passed Puck to lead their little search party more quickly across to the reception building. "I'm gonna kill him, I told him not to do this," he growls, his jaw tensing.

"We need to start searching the rooms," Sam states, "there's nowhere else he could be, apart from in the woods but there is no reason for him to go in there."

"If he went in there...it's dark, he could be lost, it could take hours to find him..." Sam is cut off by Karofksy grabbing him and Puck, pushing them up against the wall and staring breathlessly out into the darkness.

"Guy with a shotgun," he murmurs, "It looks like he's looking for something, it's too risky to let him see us. We have transport and food, it might get messy if he doesn't." Sam and Puck stay silent while they wait for Dave to tell them that it's safe to keep searching for Mike, both of them not at all happy about being in close proximity with each other. Sam knows that Puck is purposely avoiding his gaze, and it infuriates him. It's not that Quinn is obviously leaving him for Puck that angers him, it fucking hurts though, it's the fact that Puck can't just man up and tell him. Aren't they supposed to be friends?! Didn't spending weeks fighting for their lives together mean anything?

"Is he gone?" Puck asks in a whisper, his voice barely audible.

"Yeah, I think so," Dave murmurs. "I think we should go in the direction he came from." Sam hesitates, that seems like a really dangerous idea but, he trusts Dave; he's been the most level headed of all them throughout all of this. He nods his agreement, noticing Puck doing the same out of the corner of his eye. Dave glances out into the darkness again, squinting and carefully watching for signs of movement. Beckoning for the others to follow, Karofsky steps forward and cautiously walks in the direction that the stranger had come from.

"Someone should go back to the others," Sam suddenly whispers. "If that guy comes across them...I don't know...I just feel nervous about it."

"Good point," Dave sighs, "Puck?" Noah rolls his eyes and glares at Sam, as though thinking of their friends' safety is a bad thing. Finally, he nods and trudges off in the other direction, pulling a gun from the waistband of his sweatpants; just in case. "At least now I don't have to worry about one of you guys shooting the other," Karofsky grumbles. "We only have.." he calculates in his head, "thirty nine hours to get to the border. I know it sounds horrible but...if we can't find him soon..."

"I know," Sam responds softly. "Let's just keep looking for now, okay? We've already lost so much...he'd keep looking if it was one of us. And it'll be light soon, we have to keep trying."

"Alright. Let's keep looking," Dave nods, unable to shake the deep feeling of dread that he feels. They have thirty nine hours to get to a place that has already taken them several days to get a third of the way there. It's not impossible. They just have to move soon...and avoid the armed stranger. That should be easy enough. Right?

_**To be continued...The last 36 hours will be covered in the 2 remaining chapters..then it's done. Please review.**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**I do not own Glee or any of the original characters, It all belongs to RIB and Fox. Any characters you don't recognise are my own creations.**_

_**Apologies for the wait, I've been feeling a bit disheartened with this fic.**_

_**I got a lot of hits for the last chapter, but very little feedback. Please don't be shy :)**_

_**R&R please.**_

Chapter 12

December 23rd - 5am

"Someone is in there." Sam turns around when he hears Dave speak, noticing that Dave and Puck are carefully trying to look inside one of the grubby windows. The dirt, and old fashioned net curtains, makes it hard for them to see very much, but Dave is convinced that he can make out two figures. Even though he'll never admit it, Sam is relieved that Noah came back after telling the others about the armed man they had seen. The three of them can handle more than just two of them. "It looks like they're laying down, but there's definitely two people in there," Dave states with conviction. They glance around them, squinting into the darkness to make sure the other man isn't anywhere nearby. "We need to go in."

"What? No, we don't know that's Mike," Sam argues in a harsh whisper.

"We also don't know that it's not," Puck interjects. "It's worth checking it out. If it is him then we can get out of here, if it's not then we keep looking." Dave nods, clearly in full agreement with Noah. Noah's right, unless they are one hundred percent sure that Mike isn't in there, they need to check. There's no point looking for someone if you're not going to do it properly.

"Fine, one of us needs to stay out here in case that dude comes back," Sam murmurs, obviously pissed that they didn't listen to him.

"That can be you," Puck states, a condescending smirk on his face. Sam rolls his eyes and turns his back on them, his hand automatically resting on his gun. "You ready?" Puck asks Dave quietly, the smirk no longer on his face; his features now sober. Dave pulls his gun from his belt, while Puck does the same, and steps closer to the door. He waits a second, his heart hammering in his chest before kicks the door with all of the strength he can muster. The door splinters and crashes open, neither of the two occupants reacting. Dave takes a tentative step forward, watching one of the occupants, a man he hasn't see before, uneasily.

"He's dead," Puck mutters.

"Or just unconscious," Dave counters. "Watch him for me," he adds as he steps further into the motel room. He approaches the second slumped over figure, recognizing Mike as soon as he gets close enough. "It's Mike!" Dave quickly steps forward and kneels down in front of their friend, and places two of his fingers on Mike's neck. "He's alive, just unconscious," he murmurs, his entire body heaving with relief.

"This other dude looks infected. Grab Mike and let's get out of here," Puck tells him quietly, but firmly. Dave nods and hoists Mike over his shoulders, struggling slightly and letting out a puff of air. "You got him?"

"Yeah, I got him," Dave grumbles, carefully stepping passed the other man and walking out of the room. Puck gazes at the other man for a moment before stepping out and closing the door, he's not their problem. They quietly, but quickly, make their way back to the others, Sam staying a few steps behind and keeping an eye out for the man they saw earlier. This whole place would give him the creeps even if they were in a normal situation. He'll feel much better once they get out of here.

"Did you see those needles lying around?" Puck asks seriously. "Do you think they drugged Mike?"

"It seems like it," Dave grunts, hoisting Mike further over his shoulder. "He's completely out. Let's just get him in the van and we can work out what's wrong with him once we're on the road." Puck nods in agreement and looks over his shoulder, making sure that Sam is alright. They may not like each other very much right now, but they still don't want anything to happen to each other. Shelby is the first to spot the guys when they get closer to the van, both she and Maribel rushing forward to see if they are all okay.

"He's out cold, but still alive," Karofsky murmurs to Maribel as he passes both women, gently placing Mike in the back of the van with the others and ignoring their frantic questioning. He can answer whatever the hell they want him to once they're on the road and safely away from the strangers with the drugs and guns.

"Thank goodness you're all okay," Maribel states softly, pulling the closest guy, Sam, into her arms.

"Did you really expect anything less?" Sam asks with a smirk.

"Guys! We need to go," Dave tells them seriously. "Do it in the van." Sam nods and helps Maribel into the van before clambering in himself and slumping down next to Santana and Brittany. Santana shoots him a relieved smile, and no words are needed. They both know that the other is glad that they are reunited again. They're all thrown into each other as the van lurches forward, Sue clearly desperate to get them all out of here.

"Ah Shit!" Santana curses, clutching her right arm and slapping Puck's shoulder. "Fall into someone else next time, jackass!"

"Santana, it was an accident," Maribel scolds her. "Yelling at each other isn't going to help our situation." Santana has the decency to look ashamed of herself, and she shoots Noah an apologetic glance before relaxing, once more, into Brittany's arms.

"That was my bad," Sue calls from the front, not sounding at all apologetic. In fact, she seems to sound a little amused. Of course Sue Sylvester would find it funny to cause pain to someone in the middle of a zombie fucking apocalypse.

December 23rd - 5pm

Mike groans loudly as he wakes up, instantly recoiling when he feels someone touch his shoulder. The hand tightens and he is pulled upwards and, with a strangled yell, he struggles against whoever it is, his fists wildly flailing around until he makes a connection with a firm jaw, his knuckles painfully cracking. His hand is broken. How did it break so easily. A pained groan escapes his mouth and he cradles his hand close to his chest.

"Mike, it's us! You're okay, it's just us." He cracks his painful eyes open when he hears Dave's voice, noticing that Puck is kneeling behind their burly friend, nursing his jaw with a furrowed brow. "Are you alright?" Dave asks him seriously, and Mike can feel his friends' eyes on him, all of them watching him carefully as he struggles to comprehend what is actually going on.

"There's two guys," he suddenly blurts out. "They have guns and..."

"It's alright, honey, we know," Maribel crawls over to him and places a gentle hand on his forearm. "They injected you with some kind of drug, you were unconscious when the boys found you, but they got you out of there before anything else could happen," she explains softly and kindly. She doesn't know for sure if anything else did happen, but there's no point in scaring the already terrified teenager any further. Mike stares up at them with bloodshot eyes, his features drawn and discoloured. Sam and Karofsky share a concerned and confused look, there's definitely something different about him. There's no reason to panic yet, though. It could easily just be shock.

"No..it wasn't drugs," Mike argues weakly. "It was blood. One of them was infected and they injected me with his blood," he explains. "I think they wanted to change me. It didn't work, though." Dave and Sam exchange another look. It may have worked.

"What? Why would anyone do that?" Brittany asks in small, scared voice. She turns to Santana, gazing at her fiance as though she holds all the answers.

"I don't know, baby girl," Santana murmurs, "but don't be scared, okay? We're away from those men, we're on our way to safety. Okay, babe? We won't let anything happen to you."

"You promise?" Santana blinks back tears. She hates how scared Brittany is, and she hates that there's nothing she can do to help her. She wishes she could turn back time and somehow prevent all of this from happening. Brittany doesn't deserve to go through this, the world's sweetest person shouldn't have to lose her family and then fight for her life.

"I promise." This seems to be enough to calm Brittany, for now, and she relaxes against Santana again, her baby blue eyes closing as she prays that sleep will take over again.

"Mike looks...weird," Quinn leans forward and whispers into Santana's ear. Santana looks across and meets Dave's eyes, she can see that he is thinking the exact same thing that she is thinking. "Don't you think?" Quinn whispers. Santana nods stiffly, glancing around the back of the van to make sure that nobody is listening to them.

"Yeah."

December 23rd - 10pm

Mike looks less like himself with each hour that passes. His skin looks paper thin and grey, and his broken hand is turning a disgusting shade of green. He had fallen asleep a little while ago and, since then, nobody has taken their eyes off him. They all know what's happening, but none of them say it out loud. It's as though saying it out loud will confirm it, and they all want to be wrong. Brittany whimpers every single time Mike moves in his sleep, salty tears leaking from her blue eyes, blue eyes that no longer sparkle.

"Remember what I told you, babe. Think about what our life will be like. Close your eyes," Santana instructs tenderly. "Think about us. Think about what will happen after our wedding. Think about our house with the white picket fence, think about our kids that look just like us." Santana knows all of this is a cliche. Usually she hates cliches, but all she wants is to make it through this and live her cliched life with the girl of her dreams. Sam reaches forward and carefully lifts one of Mike's eyelids, a pained expression crossing his young features. Mike's brown eyes are cloudy and glazed over, the whites of his eyes completely bloodshot. They're all correct, Mike is changing, and there's nothing he can do about it.

"He's changing." Dave is the first person to voice the truth, a pained whimper escaping from Brittany's throat.

"Think about us, baby," Santana states. "Come on, sweetheart, don't think about Mike. Think about the good things to come."

_You watch, from your place on the porch swing, as a tiny version of Santana sprints across the front yard, frantically chasing after her older, blonde haired, brother. Her tiny features contort with effort as her smaller legs struggle to keep up with the longer legs of her brother._

"Get him out of the van," Rachel states in a tone much firmer than any of them have ever heard from her. "Just push him out. He's one of them."

_Santana doesn't look like she has changed at all. Her figure and features the same as when she was a teenager, her smile is the only part of her that looks different. It's bigger...she's happier. Her dark eyes shine as she looks across at you and she shoots you a wink before taking off after your two kids._

"No. We can't let him live like this. He doesn't want to live as one of them," Sam states severely. "No one does."

"Well what the hell do you suggest?!" Rachel snaps harshly. "Unless you have a cure in your back pocket then we don't have any other option but to dump him. We have to save ourselves. One life is not worth more than all of ours."

"He wants to kill him," Puck murmurs, staring darkly at Sam. "He wants to shoot him as though he is just one of those other monsters."

"He is one of of those monsters," Dave interrupts before Sam can get into some sort of argument with Puck. "He's becoming one of them, he's not our friend anymore. He's not Mike."

_A bright red balloon dangles from your son's hand as he runs from his mother and sister, wild giggles erupting from deep inside his chest. You go to stand up, desperate to join them, but something stops you. You feel different. You look down at your extended stomach in awe, your arms cradling the round, warm bump. That's why you're not crazily running around like your family is. You're carrying the newest member._

"Sam's right," Maribel tells them softly, her hand on Santana's knee and her eyes filled with devastation. "If it was one of us, we wouldn't want to turn into one of them. Let him die with dignity. He, at the very least, deserves that.

"We need to do it now. While we still can," Sam states firmly. "Sue, pull over." If anyone is surprised by Sue's lack of an argument, they don't show it. The van slows to a stop and Sam grabs his gun, not at all surprised when Dave also grabs his. "You don't have to..."

"Yeah, I do. We both made this decision," Dave grunts.

_You can't help but laugh when Santana suddenly steals the balloon from your son, a laugh bubbling from her throat as both kids suddenly pounce on her. Both of your kids squeal and laugh as she tickles them, the three of them rolling around on the lawn, the balloon floating out of Santana's hand. It floats towards the white picket fence, the lack of a breeze allowing it to dance beautifully in the air to it's own beat._

Shelby opens the door for them and they carry Mike's limp body out of the van, ensuring that they are nowhere near his mouth. Just in case. They carry his body to the side of the road, Puck following after them with his gun poised in his hands. There's no way of knowing how many more of the infected are roaming around. They place Mike on the ground, face down, and take a step back. Sam blinks back tears and swallows the lump in his throat as he aims his gun at his friend's head.

_You watch as the balloon floats closer towards the fence, a sudden gust of wind causing it to change direction and start to float towards the rose bush. You call out to Santana to warn her that the balloon will burst. Sudden, loud noises always freak her out._

Sam's hand trembles as he braces his finger on the trigger, reminding himself over and over again that this is for the best.

_Santana doesn't hear you and you watch as the balloon lands in the flower bed, bobbing along the dirt towards the prickly plant._

Sam's finger squeezes the trigger, his eye clamping shut and his heart hammering against his rib cage.

_It bobs closer, the red balloon that your family had been playfully fighting over is forgotten by them as it touches the edge of the rose bush._

Bang.

_**To be continued...one chapter left. It should be up soon. Please review. feedback is very motivating.**_


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